


Crackerjacks and Cereal Prizes- Timestamps in Slinkyverse

by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse)



Series: Slinkysverse [2]
Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2017-12-07 00:25:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_DragonMuse/pseuds/Vera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things yet unsaid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Is that Great Aunt Thestral?” Bombur rested his plate on the swell of his stomach. “Was her hair blue the last time we saw her?” 

“I’m not even convinced we’re at the right reunion.” Bofur leaned against the brick wall that enclosed the packed garden. “I don’t recognize half these people.” 

“Mmmf.” Bifur shouldered in next to him, hunching protectively over a plate full of spinach puffs. “Sahnvbitc.” 

“Had to wrestle the plate away from Hans again?” Bofur asked and Bifur rolled his eyes, then offered him the plate. “Thanks.” 

In a few minutes, their mother would probably come and try to hustle them out of the corner of the garden. It had been three years since Bifur and Bofur had been home for one of the gatherings. Bombur had stayed behind in London, but apparently he’d managed to wiggle out of it last year. 

Someone’s kids were making a racket around the swingset, making two small bodies seem like fifteen. What Bofur wanted to do was go home, shower off the garden’s pollen and sleep for a week. He wasn’t used to being back here yet. It was like putting on a suit he’d grown out of. Part of that was literal. He was in the best shape of his life and his dressier clothes no longer quite fit. After an argument, his mother had insisted on a nice pair of slacks, but Bofur had won out on a plain white t-shirt on top. Given the sudden warmth of the late spring day, it had been worth the fight. 

Bifur elbowed him and pushed the plate at him again. Bofur took one of the spinach puffs and popped it in his mouth to Bifur’s approval. 

“How soon can we leave?” 

Bifur grunted, leaning in a bit closer. Bombur wheezed a laugh. 

There was a flurry of activity by the gate, someone else arriving amid happy yells and cheers. The mass of people in the yard reconfigured and the children swept by, light hair chasing after dark. Their mother turned away from a conversation with an aunt, her eyes sweeping the yard. 

“Shit.” Bofur pushed off the wall. “I’m going to get some soda. Keep my spot warm.” 

“Coward!” Bombur called after him. 

The table laden with bottles of soda and no few beers took quite some time getting used to, but it was worth it to put his hand around a Guinness and skip the lecture on not being antisocial. He took his prize and tried to leave, but found himself pressed in. A gaggle of teenagers were huddled around a man Bofur had never seen before. He was gorgeous, tall and broad the shoulder. He had heavy stubble on his chin and upper lip, the same color as a full head of dark hair. 

“It wasn’t hard,” he was saying, “just lean in and push. The car was in neutral, it just went.” 

“I was there!” One of the girls chirped, practically hanging off the man’s arm. “It looked awesome.” 

“Looked harder than it was. I’m strong, but not that strong.” The smile was wide and white. Bofur tried not be dazzled. 

“Oi.” Someone elbowed Bofur hard. “Blocking the beer.” 

“Sorry.” Bofur shifted out of the way. “Nori?” 

“Do I-” Nori stopped, gave him the once over. “Bo? What the hell have you been doing? You look like a brick shithouse.” 

“Army.” Bofur nodded at the man. “Who’s he?” 

“Seriously?” Nori’s eyes went wide. “You don’t know who that is?” 

“What? Minor celebrity? Musician I missed? What?” 

“That’s Thorin, you nob. You know, the crown prince of this whole pathetic shindig.” Grabbing a beer, Nori waggled the bottle at him. “How have you never met him?” 

“I’m guessing because he’s been away for a few years and I only moved back last year.” Thorin’s voice was too close, practically into Bofur’s ear. Turning, Bofur swallowed hard. “Good to meet you. You a Dain?” 

“Only by the thinnest string. Third or fourth cousins, but close enough to get an invitation every year.” He held out a hand. “I’m Bofur.” 

“Bofur.” Thorin repeated, taking Bofur’s hand and shaking loosely. “Did I hear you say army?” 

“Yeah. Israeli. Finished my time up a few months ago, came back home just in time for this. Lucky, isn’t it?” He drawled, sarcasm his first protective layer. 

“I think it is.” Thorin didn’t let go of his hand. 

“Oh.” Bofur blinked and then grinned wide. “Yeah. Maybe it was. For the record, I have heard of you. Just never put a face to the name.” 

“There’s more gossip in this family then there are leaves on trees.” Thorin leaned in. “I’ve been trying to find a way to escape since I got here. Saw you clinging to a wall before, I’m guessing it’s not because you love the smell of roses?” 

“I’d rather be on a two day march.” He admitted, feeling the weight of Thorin’s fingers closing around his wrist. “If we walk out casually together, they’ll think we’re just having a private chat.” 

“Might be hours before they notice we never came back.” 

Five minutes later, they were slipping through the gate at an easy stroll. Thorin’s hand had landed at the small of Bofur’s back, heat radiating up Bofur’s spine. 

“There’s a great pub not far from here.” Thorin told him. “Dark. Private.” 

“Yeah?” Bofur smiled. “So you know the area well?” 

“My flat is a fifteen minute walk about that way.” Thorin pointed east. 

“Share it with anyone?” 

“No. Too small to share, really.” Thorin raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Did you not hear the part where I just got back from a three year stint in the army?” Bofur flushed. He’d never been so forward with anyone before, but Thorin had started it. 

“You know, I’ve heard of you too.” Thorin said lightly, the hand on Bofur’s back trailing slowly upwards. “Said you were a good kid, kind of shy. Must’ve been talking about your brother.” 

“No, that was me.” Bofur licked his lips. “But I’m not a kid anymore.” 

“My place is a mess.” Thorin got a little closer, eyes dark. “You know how it is when you live alone.” 

“I promise I won’t be paying any attention to your housekeeping.” He tilted his face up. “And I bet we can make the walk in ten.” 

“Five.” Thorin growled and the last few breaths of space disappeared. The kiss ran molten over Bofur’s skin skin. “If we run.” 

They made it in six minutes, the door slamming shut behind them. 

An hour later, sweating and relieved of whatever virginity might have remained to him, Bofur actually took in the tiny cluttered space. There were stacks of paper everywhere and thick looking books. 

“Not as bad as you made it out to be.” He rolled onto his stomach, propping himself up so he could look at Thorin. A lion at rest, Thorin stretched across the covers, on arm coming around to tug Bofur closer. “Looks a little like a library exploded.” 

“Just something I’m working on.” Thorin rubbed his cheek over Bofur’s bicep, then pulled him down for a long kiss. “Hungry?” 

“I could eat, yeah.” He pulled back slowly searching Thorin’s face. “You...want to go get something?” 

“I’ve got eggs and bacon. We could stay in.” 

They ate at the kitchen counter, half-dressed and hip to hip. 

“It was boring most of the time.” Bofur licked bacon grease off his fingers. “They don’t tell you that part or show it movies, but we did a lot of waiting around. Didn’t see much action, which I’m grateful for, trust me. What little we did...I wasn’t cut out for it.” 

“And your brother?” Thorin asked through a mouthful of egg. 

“Shrapnel. Not even from enemy action or anything. Construction blast that should’ve cleared a wider radius. Went right in here,” Bofur reached over at tapped the spot above Thorin’s eyebrow. “Should’ve killed him, but he’s a tough bastard. He’s aphasic, probably will be for the rest of his life.” 

“I’m sorry. That must be hard.” 

“Harder for him. He doesn’t really complain though. It’s weird...he always talked a lot. One of those guys that has a story for every situation, you know? But since it all happened, he sort of seems ok with it. Like maybe he was waiting for permission to stop talking. Does that sound weird?” 

“No.” Thorin set down his fork. “Sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into it.” 

“I tend to do that. Overthink.” 

“I can help with that.” Thorin closed in again and Bofur was happy to let the subject drop. 

Their afternoon escape bled into the night. 

“I should go home.” Bofur groaned. 

“Why?” Thorin nipped at his shoulder. 

“Well, otherwise, my mother will lock the door on me and I’ll be sleeping on street. She hates when we’re out too late.” 

“Then you should stay here.” Thorin nipped again with more intent. “Sleep with me.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Why wouldn’t you be?” 

“Dunno. Just, every guy I’ve been with before this was happy to see the back of me once we were done.” 

“Oh, I am happy to see your back.” Thorin reached down and grabbed Bofur’s ass. “But not if it’s walking away.” 

“That was horrible.” Bofur decreed, even as smile he couldn’t hold back broke over his face. 

Bofur never really did go home again. The rest of the weekend was lost between the sheets, but even come Monday morning, Thorin invited him back after work for dinner and this time Bofur brought a change of clothes. On Tuesday, he realized he’d forgotten his wallet at Thorin’s place and once he was there, they might as well make the most of it. They saw a movie on Wensday and the theater was closer to Thorin’s apartment than Bofur’s house. There wasn’t even an excuse on Thursday. Within a month, everything Bofur owned that meant anything to him was in Thorin’s place. 

“I’m going to move.” Thorin told him, words muffled by Bofur’s hair. It was late, but they were still very much awake. 

“Move where?” Bofur turned over, eyes wide. “Why?” 

“Get a bigger place.” Thorin said solemnly. “Enough room for you, me and all of our shit.” 

“Oh.” Bofur blinked, relieved until he realized what that really meant. “Are you sure? Isn’t it too soon?” 

“I have no idea. Never done this before. What do you think?” 

“I...” Bofur slid his leg over Thorin’s hip. “I haven’t done this either. But I wouldn’t mind having some actual drawers to put my clothes.” 

“Hey! Those are nice cardboard boxes. Best on the market.” Thorin kissed the corner of Bofur’s smile. “Two bedrooms. A kitchen big enough for a table.” 

“A bathroom we can both stand in at the same time.” 

“Sounds like luxury.” 

It took weeks to find a place, but it had two bedrooms, a kitchen big enough for a table and a bathroom they could both stand in at the same time. They moved in on a bright Saturday and there they stayed until the bitter end.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili doesn't believe in God, but he knows he's damned anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Does contain self-hair pulling in attempt to self-harm.

They’d had their own rooms for years. Fili had liked the change in the beginning. The space all his own and undisturbed sleep. Until over breakfast, he noticed Kili’s head hanging practically into cereal bowl. Guilt began to stir. The next day, Kili didn’t laugh or talk on the way to school. 

He’d thought about telling their parents, but they had been so weirdly insistent about them getting their separate rooms that he figured he’d save that as a last resort. So he started with Kili, but he would only say, 

“M’fine, Fi.” 

Back to the drawing board. He tried to stay awake later to check on Kili in the night, but he never managed it. When Kili started nodding off over dinner one night, Fili knew he had to tell someone. He waited until his parents were watching television, snuck into the kitchen and picked up the phone, dialing from memory. Squeezing his eyes shut, he crossed his fingers and hoped the right person picked up. 

“Hello?” 

Relief flooded through Fili, “Hi, Uncle Bofur.” 

“Fili? What’s up?” 

“Um. Do you have a second?” 

“Of course. Something wrong?” 

“I’m worried about Kili.” Fili sighed out, relieved just to tell someone else. An adult, who could take care of it. “He’s not sleeping.” 

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know.” He swallowed hard. “He won’t talk to me.” 

“This start when you got your own rooms?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” 

There was a long pause and Bofur let out a stream of air that sent static over the line. Fili could imagine him sitting in his chair by the window. Maybe smoking one of the cigarettes he always said was his last. 

“What about you?” 

“What?” 

“How are you sleeping, Fili?” 

“I...” He swallowed again. “I should have told Mom she couldn’t separate us. I know he has nightmares and he gets scared.” 

“Fili, that’s not what I asked.” 

“But-” 

“How are you sleeping?” 

“It's not like...good. It's nice.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. Kili’s a big boy now. He needs to learn to sleep on his own.” Bofur said gently. “And you deserve your own space. I’ll talk to Kili.” 

“Don’t tell him I told you.” He pleaded. 

“Of course not.” 

A week later and Kili had a stuffed lion permanently lodged under his arms. The black circles went away, Kili chattered over breakfast and giggled all the way to school. At night, Fili could spread out on his own bed and sleep without interruption. 

Seven years later and he was newly grateful for his separate space. The door was locked against the world. Having his own room had always been a little about keeping Kili out, but he had never liked to think about it like that. 

“Fi, come on.” Kili knocked at the door, trying the handle. 

Fili buried his face in his hands. His little brother. His beloved, cherished little brother. The funny little boy, who had grown into beautiful, clever teenager. Fili had fled halfway around the world with his mother from the monstrous thoughts that had taken root the last few months. Somehow though, it had reached across the ocean to infect Kili. It had to be something Fili had done, some terrible seed he’d planted in Kili’s fertile soil. 

“Open the door. Don’t do this.” Kili knocked again, loud as if that would rouse Fili. “Please, let me explain. I’m sorry, ok?” 

Not as sorry as Fili. He pulled at his hair, the sharp pang of pain a good reminder of what he’d done. 

“Ok, fine. I’ll just...talk from here. You can hear me, right?” Kili cleared his throat. “Of course you can. I’m not actually sorry, Fi. I love you, ok? Always will, no matter what. I just...I thought..No. You know what? I know. I know you feel the same way.” 

“I’m sorry.” Fili whispered into his hands. 

“You tried so hard to hide it. It’s not your fault. Do you hear me? Not your fault. Stop pulling your hair, by the way. If you get yourself bloody over this, I’ll...I don’t know. But you won’t like it.” 

“I wasn’t!” He protested, unwinding his fingers from his hair. 

“So you are listening. Good.” Kili sighed. “Fuck...I’ve wanted you for...god. Before I knew what wanting was, ok? I know its not right, but its always been there, so what am I supposed to do with that?” 

“Bottle it up inside and never talk about it again! It’s...beyond wrong.” Fili stared sightlessly at the carpet. “It’s blasphemous.” 

“You’re the one that told me God was a nice fantasy. Remember? I was like thirteen.” 

“I don’t mean that way.” Fili groaned. “It’s...shit.” 

“What way did you mean it?” When Fili didn’t answer, Kili thudded against the door. It took Fili a moment to parse the sound. Kili had sat down in front of the door. Just like he used to when Fili would lock the door against him when they were children. “Explain it to me.” 

“Please, can’t we just...go back. I don’t want to know this. I don’t want this.” Fili’s fingers were back in his hair. 

“We can’t go back.” Kili’s voice was tight. “You always explain to me. Everything. Even when you shouldn't. Don’t stop now. Why is it blasphemous?” 

“Because.” He felt a hair or two give way, the sharp prick of pain. “Because.” 

“Goddammit.” There was a rough click and thrust. Cooler air rushed in, Kili on its heels. Strong hands wrapped around Fili’s wrists, pulling them free. “You drive me fucking crazy, do you know that?” 

“Me?” Fili laughed, raw and deep. “Do you know what you do to me? What I’ve been dealing with? You’re...you.” 

“Tell me.” Kili cajoled. “It’s still me.” 

“That’s the problem.” Fili couldn’t look away from Kili’s face, grown leaner and sharper this last year. His hair had grown long, messy around his concern. 

“Why is it blasphemous?” Kili’s grip shifted. Not restraining anymore, but linking their hands together. 

“You’re...you’re the only thing in my life that’s holy.” Fili clung to him. “You’re my annoying little brother, my beautiful baby brother. My whole life, I had one rule: Watch out for Kili. If I can’t even do that...what am I?” 

“I’m not a kid anymore.” Kili’s thumbs swept over Fili’s wrists, possessive and soothing all at once. “Even if this never happened, even if we didn’t share whatever this is, one day you’d have to figure something else out. You can’t just be my big brother for the rest of your life.” 

“I liked it better when you were the stupid one.” 

“I was never the stupid one. I just let you think that, so you wouldn’t know that I was the smarter and prettier one.” Kili teased gently. “Fili, I love you. I don’t want you to watch out for me or worse, let me go because I’m all grown up. I want us to be equals in this. I want to share a bed with you.” 

“You don’t know what you’re asking. You’ve never even...” Fili made a vague gesture. 

“I have, actually. Not that it mattered. I didn’t really like it. Either way.” 

“Both...when?” Ugly jealousy flushed into his stomach, mingling with shame until he thought he might vomit. 

“I had to know. I’m not...immune to what’s fucked up about this, ok? I had to make sure it wasn’t just confused lust or something. You’re holy to me too, you know.” Kili dropped Fili’s left hand to reach up, cupping Fili’s chin. “I didn’t tell you until I was sure, but I am now.” 

“No.” Fili’s stomach roiled. “We can’t be that to each other.” 

“We already are.” Kili brushed his fingers over Fili’s cheekbone, the curve of his jaw. “Even if you never let me kiss you, even if you moved across the world to get away from me, you’d still be my love. Just you for the rest of my life.” 

“Don’t say that. Please, don’t.” 

“You are the best person I know. Kind and smart and funny and beautiful.” Kili’s breath ghosted over Fili’s lips. Cardamon tea and raspberry jam. “And mine.” 

“Kili,” it came out in a pleading whine, “you can’t just-” 

“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t belong to me and me to you. You’ve thought I was yours since we were too young to know what the hell that meant, so don’t you think it goes the other way too?” 

“I don’t own you.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” Kili’s hair was still a little damp from the shower he’d taken before Fili got home. The faint humidity thickened the air between them. “Please, Fi.” 

Fili could see the tiny black freckle in the warm brown of Kili’s right iris. The freckle he had been the first to discover when Kili was three and they’d have staring contests when Mom demanded they find a quiet game. The freckle that Fili had always thought of as his. 

“You always think you can just bat your eyes at me and get what you want.” 

“Not this time.” Kili sighed and the smell of cardamom and raspberries tinged the air again. 

“Even this time.” 

Fili touched his lips to Kili’s with the softest of grazes. He was nauseous, shaking and terrified, but when Kili leaned into and made it something real, deep and loving, it was still the best moment of Fili’s short life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At seventeen, Sam is starting to figure out some things he never wanted to understand.

In the summer sun, Frodo glowed from the burnished curls of his hair to his pale skin. He lay on his stomach, legs bent upward, wholly engrossed in his book and unaware of the heartbreak he could issue, just by being himself. Sam knelt among the roses and tried hard to think of anything else. The mulch in his gloved hands, maybe or the gentle pruning yet to be done. 

Turning seventeen had been a terrible curse. Suddenly Sam was all too aware of how far away he really stood from his best friend. Frodo would be somebody someday, someone brilliant and beautiful and desired. More and more, Sam saw his own overmended clothes, plain features and plodding mediocre grades as portents of a very different life. It had been kind of Bilbo to offer Sam a few hours of gardening for pocket money, but it only made everything clearer. Sam served and Frodo was a gentleman of leisure. 

“Are you alright?” A kind soft voice asked and Sam realized he was blinking back tears like an infant. 

“I’m fine.” He took a deep breath and tilted his face back to find Fili standing above him, two glasses of ice water in his hands. “I didn’t see you come in.” 

“We’re here for the weekend.” Fili smiled at him. “Come have a seat on the bench with me and have some water. It’s hot out and Bilbo says you’ve been at it for hours.” 

“Just getting the roses ready for the first frost.” He shucked off his gloves and surreptitiously wiped his face clean when Fili’s back was turned. 

“Here we are.” Fili handed over one of the glasses and waited to take a sip from his own until Sam had settled on the bench next to him. “How are you, Sam? I haven’t seen you in months.” 

“I’m ok. Nothing new, really.” He sipped his own water and only dared look at Fili out of the corner of his eye. “What about you?”

Everyone that knew them seemed to prefer Kili to Fili. Certainly Frodo liked his livelier older cousin the most and the cats would always settle on Kili if he stayed still long enough. It was usually Kili doing most of the talking and taking up most of the room. When he’d made a surprise appearance at Frodo’s fifteenth birthday parties, all the girls had said silly things and followed after him like ducklings. 

Not Sam though. Oh, he liked Kili well enough, but it had been Fili that listened to him when there were too many other voices in the house. Fili always seemed to know when Sam needed to breath or share a silence. They had spent many nights together at Bilbo’s kitchen table long after Frodo had finished his homework and Kili was done with his lesson plans. Sometimes Fili helped Sam over a hard spot in his work, but usually he left him to figure it out on his own or just make a cup of tea and insist they both take a break together. 

And Sam thought he was nearly as beautiful as Frodo. 

“We moved into the condo since the last time I saw you.” Fili took another sip of water. “It’s good, having that kind of space. Kili’s got the office overrun with crazy inventions already and my papers are everywhere.” 

“Sounds nice.” 

“Yeah, it is.” Fili smiled at him. “It’s messy, but it’s home. You must be getting ready to apply to college.” 

“Oh.” Sam looked down at his glass. “I don’t think I’ll be going.” 

“Well it’s not for everyone. What do you want to do?” 

Sam watched the condensation drip down the side of the glass.

“It’s ok, Sam. Whatever it is.” Fili nudged him with an elbow. 

“I like this.” He waved a hand vaguely at Bilbo’s garden. “I like the plants and the sun and getting everything just right. But it’s just a summer kind of job, isn’t it?” 

“There’s plenty of greenhouses open all year round that wouldn’t mind a hard working kid like you.” Fili decreed. “Landscaping businesses do very well in areas like this. You could do that.” 

“Do you think so?” The dirt on his fingers mixed with the dripping water until it pooled murky and sluggish at the bottom of the glass. 

“I know so.” 

“I do try. In school. I don’t think...I don’t mean to be stupid, but sometimes this is the only easy thing in the world.” 

“You’re not stupid.” Fili said it with such vehemence that Sam whirled around to look at him full on. Fili’s eyes were bright, his back rigid. “Just because you don’t fit into their mold, doesn’t mean you’re not smart.” 

“But I’m not.” Sam protested. “I’ve never understood what they’re on about, my teachers. Frodo just...understands.” 

“Frodo.” Fili glanced over at where Frodo read on, oblivious to the conversation not ten feet away. “Isn’t you, Sam. He’s got a different sort of mind. But he’s...I don’t know. Naive, I guess. The world doesn’t touch him.” 

“That’s not fair.” Sam protested, but it was a token more than anything. The world didn’t dare touch Frodo, who always lay in sunlight. 

“No, it’s not.” Fili set down his glass under the bench. “Not much is. But you know that. That’s what makes you smart. You know how the world works and why people do bad things, but it doesn’t stop you from living like everyone has good intentions. You remind me of Kili that way.” 

“I do?” Sam couldn’t imagine that he and Kili had anything in common. 

“Yes. You know the worst and choose to believe the best. It’s admirable.” 

“What about you?” Sam dared to ask. 

“I have Kili to remind me of it all. If I had my way, I’d spend my days dealing with math instead of people.” Fili shrugged. “Math always does what is supposed to do.” 

“Not for me.” Sam snorted. 

“It’s like your flowers then. If you take care of them and nothing bad happens, then you get what you expect. You never plant roses and get daisies.” Fili smiled a little. “That’s what people are like for me. Getting daisies. I think for you, you always get roses.” 

Sam couldn’t help, but look at Frodo when he replied, “Not always.” 

“Ah.” Fili had caught it and Sam blushed furiously. “It’s normal, you know. Frodo is a good looking lad.” 

“Never noticed.” Sam lied. “He’s like my brother.” 

“I very much doubt that.” Fili muttered, something darkening his expression. 

“He is.” Sam swallowed hard, stung. “We grew up together.”

“I know you care about each other a great deal.” Fili softened. “Look, Sam, you’ll never know what he’d say if you don’t ask.” 

“But it could ruin everything.” 

“Do you really think Frodo is the type of person who would give up on a lifelong friendship because of one confession?” Fili raised an eyebrow. “That seems unlikely.” 

“It could.” 

“Why are you so sure of rejection?” 

“Are you kidding?” Sam didn’t mean to be rude, it just slipped out. “Everyone at school thinks he's gorgeous and I've never even kissed someone. Have you even looked at us? Night and day.” 

“I’m looking.” And Fili was, looking Sam dead in the eye. “I see two boys with a lot in common, who have never let anyone tell them they shouldn’t be friends even though they’re very different. I see a boy that loves stories and gardens and would still burn every book and uproot every flower if it meant preventing an ounce of hurt coming to his friend.” 

“I would.” Sam said miserably. “I really would.” 

“And don’t you think that Frodo would tear up all that poetry he loves and never eat another scone again if he thought it would help you?” Fili wouldn’t let Sam look away, the light blue of his eyes a thin shield to something raw and powerful. “You’re a good kid and one day, you’ll be an amazing man. I can’t think of anyone I’d rather see Frodo have at his side.” 

“Oh.” Sam had to look away. For the first time, a flicker of hope lit inside of him. It was small and wavering, but it caught and it would stay. Sam understood hope. He knew how to live off of it, in tiny sips and make it last for years. Hope, he could work with. He wanted to offer something back to Fili in return, but he didn’t think he knew anything as wonderful as that gift. 

“Its probably none of my business.” Fili sighed gustily. “Sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. Only, I suppose I see myself in you.” 

“But you’re so grown up.” 

“I’m nearly thirty, even I have to admit that growing up comes with the territory.” Tucking one leg under the other, Fili resettled himself. “I was very like you when I was a boy.” 

“Did you have a Frodo?” Sam asked, then groaned. “Sorry. You don’t have to- I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“I did.” Fili looked out over the stone path and the little road where a car made it’s leisurely way down the lane. “And I told myself that it was never meant to be. I never asked and I kept my distance and tried to protect him.” 

“What happened?” 

“He came for me.” Fili’s smile was tight, a little sad and Sam tried to imagine what kind of story would put it there. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.” 

“So...no happy ending then?” 

Fili didn’t answer for so long, Sam was beginning to think he wouldn’t at all. Eventually though, he did speak though it seemed more to himself than to Sam, 

“There are no happy endings or sad ones. Life doesn’t tie up that neatly. I have loved and been loved and that is no small thing.” 

The answer didn’t sit right with Sam, but he wasn’t one to come back with a fast argument. Instead, he finished his water and went back to the roses. Fili stayed on the bench, apparently content to watch the afternoon sun slide away. Eventually, Frodo noticed the growing chill and got up from his resting spot. He joined Fili and the two talked lightly about something Sam could only half-hear from his spot in the verge. 

A car pulled into the driveway just as Sam was doing the last of the weeding, his attention wandering back to Frodo and Fili. Laughing and carrying too many shopping bags, Bofur and Kili emerged from the car and started up the path. 

If Sam hadn’t been watching with far too much intent and primed from the conversation, he probably never would have caught it. It was a slight shift in expression, the smallest upturning of the lips, widening of the eyes and a softening of the brow. Fili’s entire body opened up just a few degrees as if in unconscious welcome. 

“Is someone going to come help us?” Bofur demanded. 

Sam got to his feet and was already holding out his hands to take on the burden while he searched Kili’s face for confirmation. He watched Kili’s eyes track right to Fili, checking in and taking measure. Fili replying with a slight inclination of his head, pushing up off the bench. 

“You’ve taken everything, Sam.” Frodo laughing held out a hand. “You’ll fall over carrying all that weight.” 

“It’s nothing.” Sam smiled and kept the bags tight in his grip. 

“Let me get the door then.” Frodo skipped up the path, light on his bare feet. He opened the door wide, the smell of his sun bleached hair curling into Sam’s nose as he squeezed by. 

Bilbo was already in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. 

“On the table, please Sam.” He said without turning around. “Good work on the roses. You must be hungry. Are you staying for dinner?” 

“Oh, no. I should go home.” He set the bags down gently. “You’re having a family dinner.” 

“Trying to get away again, is he?” Bofur clapped his hand over Sam’s shoulder. “Help me get this put away. It’s barbecue tonight and who else would man the grill if you left us?” 

“Sam’s already worked so hard today.” Frodo protested. “Uncle can do the steaks.” 

“I don’t mind.” Sam mumbled, sorting through the bags and taking a mental inventory. More often than not, he was the one that made up the Baggins’ grocery list. He somehow always seemed to be there when they were talking over the week’s meals and his blocky notes were deemed the most legible. 

“You never mind.” Frodo shook his head, smiling all the while. 

“The both of you should go wash up.” Bilbo pointed the tip of the knife at them. “No dirty hands at the table, even if it is outside.” 

They obeyed, retreating to Frodo’s bathroom. Just as they had as small boys, they crowded around the sink together. Sam needed a much longer cleaning, but Frodo stayed anyway. 

“What were you and Fili talking about?” Frodo asked over the rush of the water. “You both looked so serious.” 

“Just stuff.” Sam concentrated on the grim under his nails. “He asked me what I wanted to do after school.” 

“What did you tell him?” 

“That I’d like to be a gardener. He thought it was a good idea.” There was a stubborn bit of grit and he scrubbed at it hard. 

“It is a good idea.” Frodo mused. “You look so at home with growing things.” 

“I do?” Sam looked up in surprise. Frodo wasn’t joking or pitying. He was smiling. 

“I can never keep anything alive. You’re good at it. You take care of things.” Frodo ran a hand through his curls. “I don’t know how I’m going to live without you at college. It’ll be miserable.” 

“But you’re brilliant. You’ll have as many friends as you want.” Sam shut off the tap, reaching for a hand towel. 

“Sam, most of my friends are in books.” Frodo picked the towel off for him, holding it open until Sam placed his hands in the fold so Frodo could scrub them dry. “The other kids at school think I’m strange, you know that.” 

“No they don't.” Sam could feel Frodo’s strong fingers through the thick fabric. “And if they do, they're idiots.” 

“Why do you always think the best of me?” Frodo huffed a laugh, drawing away and hanging the towel to dry. “I’m moody and weird and too intense.” 

“Not to me.” Sam could cross the distance between them just by reaching out. He could put his hand on Frodo’s slim waist and draw him close. 

In the distance something crashed and two cats came streaking by at top speed, hair bristled out in every conceivable direction. Bofur came barreling after them, braids flying. 

“I hope that wasn’t dinner!” Frodo laughed, nudging at Sam. “Come on, let’s go save the furballs from themselves.” 

Most of the steaks had survived their brief encounter with the floor. Sam took the plate of rescued meat and started the barbecue. The backyard was a smaller affair than the gracious garden in the front, a small stone wall built up around it and a crowded arrangement of patio furniture taking up most of the room. Sam judged the wind and moved the barbecue to the other side where the smoke would blow away from the table. 

He watched the family come in, juggling plates and talking over each other. Bilbo brushed a kiss over Bofur’s cheek, rising a bright smile. Their contentedness was what Sam knew he’d measure his own relationships against. Mostly because they were the only couple Sam had really known growing up. 

Except now, scales fallen from his eyes, Sam saw that maybe it had been two couples all along. Fili took his seat and Kili slid in beside him as if there were no other place in the world. He didn’t know what to make of the thought, wondered if he was sick even to consider it. Yet, he knew Fili and he’d seen what he’d seen. 

All through dinner, he ate and tried not to stare, but he kept catching moments that would once have been meaningless and now resonated loudly. Here was Fili passing Kili a bowl, their fingers lingering where they touched. There was Kili leaning in too close to listen as Fili explained his latest project. 

“That was great, Sam. Thanks.” Frodo nudged him when the last bite was gone. “You’re exempt from cleaning up. So stay here while we clear, ok?” 

“Oh, I don’t mind.” He started to rise, but Frodo’s hand was on his shoulder. 

“Sit. I’ll bring you out a coffee.” 

He hated sitting while he could be doing, but Frodo had asked. Rather than stay still, he went to check on the fragile orchids he’d been coaxing to life at the side of the house. He was startled by a small point of light in the darkness.

“Oh, bother.” Biblo groaned, the cigarette in his hand trailing smoke up to the sky. “Don’t tell on me.” 

“I wouldn’t. Sorry.” Sam coughed, the unexpected rasp of smoke in his throat. “I thought you quit ages ago.” 

“Let’s keep it that way.” Bilbo took another long drag. “I only have one or two a week. Its hard to give up a lifetime of habit. Bofur pretends not to know so he doesn’t have to lecture me.” 

“I was just checking on the orchids.” Sam dropped to his knees, looking over the delicate stems. 

“Sam!” Frodo called out. “You better not be back at work, I swear.” 

“Ah, your master calls.” Bilbo smiled, taking another quick puff. “Sometimes Sam, I thank God for you.” 

“Me?” Sam laughed. 

“You. Now go on then. Don’t keep him waiting or he’ll come looking and we’ll both be in for it.” 

Sam scrambled to his feet and going back around to find Frodo holding out a mug with an exasperated expression, “Honestly.” 

“I like to be busy.” He took the mug extended to him.

“I know.” Frodo led him back to the table, so they could look up at the stars. “You’ve looked preoccupied all day.” 

“Suppose I was.” He shrugged. “Guess I was just thinking.” 

“About what?” 

“Do you ever...do you ever wonder what’d it’d be like to have a brother?” It seemed the safest question. 

“Sometimes. I’ve always been an only child though and I like it.” Frodo shrugged. “It would have been nice not to be alone when my parents died, I think. But I don’t know if Bilbo would have been able to take in two of us. What about you? I mean, you have your sisters.” 

“It’s different. They have their own things and they’re too much older than me.” Sam sipped his coffee. “I always thought it’d be nice, having a brother. Like Fili and Kili.” 

“Oh, no one’s like them.” Frodo laughed. “How many brothers do you know that still live with each other after college?” 

“None.” Sam swallowed thickly. Did Frodo know? Did everyone? 

“Bofur says they were always thick as thieves. Maybe one day, they’ll marry sisters or something. Oh, hey, falling star!” Pointing, Frodo showed Sam where it pierced through the air. “That’s good luck.” 

“It’s a meteor is what it is.” Bilbo came back around the house, free of the smell of smoke. “You'll get eaten alive out here without bug spray.” 

“There you are.” Bofur wrapped a hand around Bilbo’s chest, drawing him close. “Kili’s broken out Boggle again. You’ve got to help me put him back in his place or it’ll be gloating for weeks.” 

“Oh! Let’s have a tournament.” Frodo bounced to his feet. 

“I really do need to go home.” Sam decided. He was miserable at Boggle and he’d had his fill of emotion for the day. He wanted to go back to his quiet house and watch television until Gaffer came home. 

“Aw, Sam.” Frodo pouted, but let him go. 

“I don’t know if I like you walking back in the dark.” Bilbo frowned. “There was that carjacking last week and that was only a few blocks away.” 

“Sam can take care of himself.” Frodo rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll walk with him.” Fili emerged from the living room. “I’ve got work to do anyway, so the tournament will have to go on without me.” 

“And who’ll walk you back?” Bofur shook his head. “Take a flashlight.” 

“Come on, Sam. Let’s go before the whole party winds up at your house.” 

They walked quietly together down the garden path and into the lane. Fili played the flashlight over the street. It wasn’t until they were in sight of Sam’s house that he mustered up the courage to say, 

“It doesn’t matter to me.” 

“What doesn’t?” Fili raised an eyebrow. 

“I...” Sam knew he couldn’t put into words. If he was wrong, he would feel like dirt and if he was right, then they’d spent a lot of years trying to hide in plain sight. “Happy endings. I think they’re sort of different for everyone. And if anyone deserves one, I think its you.” 

“Oh, Sam.” The beam of light fell. 

“I’m sorry.” Shit. He hung his head. 

“No.” Fili reached out, took Sam’s chin in his hand and tipped his face upwards. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to know...no one should have to carry our secret.’ 

“It doesn’t bother me.” Which wasn’t really the whole truth. It did bother him, but so did a lot of things in the world. “I think its...its good if you’re happy. I won’t say. Ever.” 

“That’s very sweet of you.” Fili smiled ruefully at him. “You know, when you were younger I thought you had a little crush on me.” 

Sam wondered if someone could die of mortification. The day had served up too much for him to stomach. He wanted to crawl away and bury himself under his blankets, but Fili was still holding onto his chin. 

“Maybe.” He mumbled instead. 

“One day you’ll get up the nerve to talk to Frodo or maybe some other pretty young thing who’ll deserve whatever you want to give them. Until then...” 

Sam wasn’t really sure what was happening until was over. The kiss was light, a touch at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t sensual or sexy, but it was definitely not the familial kisses he was used to. He touched his fingers to the spot when Fili withdrew. 

“Everyone should have their first kiss under the stars.” Fili ran a hand through his hair. “Go on then, before I start wallowing in guilt and ruin it.” 

Sam turned, dazed and got a half dozen steps before his courage came back to him. He chased after Fili, came to a staggering stop in front of him. 

“Thank you.” He said earnestly, reached out and took a real kiss. When he backed off, Fili stared at him, stunned. “For everything. Thank you.” 

Two years later, he would stand under another starry sky halfway across the world (“You can’t go gallivanting across Europe by yourself,” said Bilbo and Frodo had replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Sam will be with me.”). 

“Look,” Frodo would say, pointing into the distance, “we’re nearly there.” 

“Let’s stop here.” Sam would reach out and put a hand on Frodo’s waist. “Camp under the stars.” 

“Don’t you want a rea; bed?” Frodo would turn to him, eyes wide in surprise. 

“Not tonight.” And Sam would kiss him without fear. 

Frodo would kiss him back and the hopeful flickering light that Sam had held close for years would burst into a raging fire. 

But that was two years and many long lonely nights later. 

That night, lips still warm from his first stolen kiss, Sam took off running towards home, blood rushing in his ears and something like joy singing through his veins.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The drive home after the events of the previous chapter. Fili/Kili

The scenery rolled past, leaving the weekend behind them. Fili had his shoes off, feet on the dashboard and his forehead against the glass. Beside him, Kili had his strong hands at ten and two. Fili liked how Kili drove, steady on the wheel and mouth wrapped around whatever song tripped over the radio. 

“Ok.” Not this ride though. Kili leaned over and flicked off the music. “Out with it.” 

“With what?” Fili rubbed at his forehead. 

“You’ve been looking at me all weekend like you gambled away our life savings.” 

“I don’t gamble.” 

“Come on, Fi. What is it?” 

“Sam figured it out.” 

“Figured out what?” 

“Us.” The sun pooled on the dashboard, radiating heat. Sometimes Fili just dropped off on these rides home, lulled by warmth and the thrum of the road. “I don’t know how. Maybe I gave something away.” 

“Damnit.” Kili let out a long stream of air. “How’d he take it?” 

“As well as anyone does. Don’t think he’s really sorted through it yet.” He ran his tongues over lips. “I kissed him.” 

Kili’s hands tightened on the wheel.

“It was stupid, probably.” Fili wanted to reach over, rub his knuckles over Kili’s denim clad thigh. Instead, he tucked his hands into his own lap, knotting them together. “He told me he knew and that it didn’t bother him and I just...he’s a good kid, you know?” 

“So what, you’re rewarding good behavior with tongue now?” 

“It wasn’t that kind of kiss.” His gut clenched hard. “Just a sort of peck. A thank you, I guess. He was going on about Frodo, you know and it's clear he’s insane for the boy, but he won’t do anything about it. He thinks he’s worthless. I thought maybe, he just needed to know that he deserves affection and care as much as anyone else.” 

Kili said nothing for a long mile. 

“I’m sorry.” Fili said quietly. “Truly. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“You’re sorry for the wrong reasons.” Kili’s tongue pushed into his cheek as if checking anger. “You don’t even hear yourself sometimes, I swear.” 

“What should I be sorry for?” 

“Are you ever going to accept what we have instead of wishing it had all gone differently?” 

It was a slap so hard, Fili nearly felt it fall over his cheek. 

“How can you even say that? We moved across the world from our family, bought a home, made a life together and you still think I’m looking elsewhere?” 

“Not elsewhere...elsewhen or something. Like you could go back in time and erase giving into me. That you could fall in love with someone normal. That’s why you kissed Sam. Because you’ve always liked him, identified with him, and you want him to have some apple pie life.” Kili looked rigidly forward, spine a taut straight line. “Something normal for yourself.”

“That’s not what I was thinking.” He protested, but already he was going back over the events of Friday night, wondering what he’d missed about his own motivations. 

“Its what you’re always thinking.” 

“Jesus, Kili, it is not!” Fili twisted around his seat. “Do you really believe that?” 

“Sometimes.” Kili said thickly. 

“What’ve I done to make you think like that?” 

“Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.” Kili drew in a deep breath, changing lanes at a rapid clip. “I see the way you look at other couples like they have something you don’t. How sometimes when you think I’m asleep, you stare at me and I know what has to be going through your head.” 

“You have no idea what I’m thinking.” He dug his nails into his palms. “I watch you because I can’t sleep and I like to look at you. The way your hair lays on the pillow, how your eyes shift under the lids when you’re dreaming. I like to make sure you’re still breathing. I’ve been looking after you while you sleep all your life and now you’re reading something into it?” 

“That’s...kind of creepy, Fi.” Kili’s eyes had widened as Fili went on. “You make sure I’m breathing?” 

“When I can’t sleep.” It was a little embarrassing, but nothing in the face of Kili believing the worst. “When they first moved your crib into my room, I did the same thing. I was petrified you’d stop breathing in the middle of the night, so I stayed awake making sure.” 

“You were three. You can’t even remember that young.” 

“Ask mother if you don’t believe me.” He wrenched his hands apart and reached across the divide, resting one palm against Kili’s thigh. “I have always loved you, Kili. I always will.” 

“But you have regrets. Don’t lie and say you don’t.” 

“Don’t you?” Fili sighed. “Be honest. Some days, it’s harder than others. Like at that wedding last fall. I know you didn’t go to the bathroom in the middle of the ceremony because you had too much to drink. Don’t you think I wish it could be us up there too?” 

“You want to marry me?” Kili blinked in surprise and Fili wanted to die. 

“Of course, I do.” His wasn’t sure if it was anger, fear or love clamoring in his throat. Maybe a deadly mix of all three. “I picked out rings once, for fuck’s sake. I had to return them after a month of keeping them in my pocket. I just kept thinking how awful it would be to have them and then have to take them off every time we went somewhere that we might get recognized.” 

“I just thought you didn’t...that it didn’t matter to you. That marriage was for someone else.” Kili choked. 

“How did you let this get so bad? How did I?” This was a forest fire where he thought there was pilot light. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because if we talked about it...maybe you would finally decide that I’m too much trouble. That all of this, the hiding, the lying... maybe you’d get sick of it.” Kili bit at his lower lip. “If you knew that sometimes I had doubts-” 

“You’d be crazy if you didn’t.” Fili interrupted. “Of course you have doubts. We’re operating so far out of the norm there’s no road map. We’ve got twice as much shit to deal with than most couples. I have doubts, Kili, I have regrets, but they will never ever mean that I’ll give up on this. On us.” 

“What do you regret?” 

“Oh, don’t.” Fili sagged into his seat. “Please don’t.” 

“I want to know.” 

“Only if you’ll tell me yours.” Fili demanded. “If we draw all the rot out right now.” 

Kili’s right hand slid from the wheel to curl around the one Fili had left behind on his thigh. Their fingers slotted easily together. 

“I wish I could’ve had someone I could take home to Mom.” Kili admitted in a rough hush. “She would have liked a daughter-in-law.” 

“I wish we didn’t have to hide. It gnaws at me all the time to always be telling one lie or another.” Fili rubbed his thumb over the top of Kili’s hand. “I want people to know how proud I am to have you.” 

“I wish I could’ve met your children.” Kili turned off an exit, not theirs. “I don’t want to be a father, but I thought being an uncle would be cool. And your children would be like you and have your hair or your eyes maybe.” 

“I don’t want kids.” 

“Maybe you would’ve. What if I took that from you?” 

Fili had no answer to that. Couldn’t know what he would have wanted. He tried to remember if he’d even considered the possibility before that fateful summer, but he’d been a teenager then and a troubled one at that. A family had been the last thing on his mind. It made him think of something else though. 

“I wish I could’ve made you wait another few years. Let you grow up those last few inches without this between us.” 

“Because you think I wouldn’t have chosen you all over again?” 

“Because I’d feel less like I ruined your life.” 

“I’ve got a college education, a career I like and a home. What do you think I would’ve done without you there?” Kili all, but spat. “How can you say I’m ruined?” 

“Because apparently you’ve spent the last ten years believing that I’ll run off at any moment.” Fili bit the inside of his mouth. “Because I’ve let you think that. You should’ve had time to know that I’d wait. Even if you changed your mind a million times. You should have been able to come to me without thinking I was questioning it every step of the way. Ten years. Ten years you’ve been ready for me to leave. That’s ruination and don’t tell me it isn’t.” 

The car rumbled through an uneasy turn and hard park. Outside, a last child met their parent at the gate of a small playground and then they were alone in the parking lot. In a flash, Kili was undoing his seatbelt and throwing open the door. Bemused, Fili followed him over the asphalt and sand. The swings hung limp in the still evening air, shifting in protest when Kili plopped himself onto one. Fili, for lack of any other idea, took the one beside him. 

“I don’t really think you’d go.” Kili pushed himself back and forward with a toe. “Only...maybe I do, a little. Because I was always the one chasing after you. Asking. Begging.” 

“Only because I didn’t ask. If you wanted me...that was deviant maybe, but there’s much harsher words for me if I’d even looked at you too obviously.” Fili pushed a little too, the hard rubber of the seat biting into his thighs. “I had to be sure you gave meaningful consent. You’ve got understand that now.” 

“I do, I guess. It’s just hard to reconcile with how it felt like then.” 

The sky flushed pink and the wind picked up a little, brushing stray hair from Kili’s cheeks. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, the stubble growing in thick and fast. It would feel like sandpaper on Fili’s skin, catching against his own fairer hair. Sometimes, Fili knew everything about his brother and others, he seemed as mysterious and distant as the stars. 

“There’s a common phrase that applies to these situations.” Fili told him, watching Kili push idly back and forth. 

“Oh yeah? Is our situation common now?” 

“Maybe not, but it’s a fair approximation.” Fili stood and took the few steps that slotted him between Kili’s thighs. As he should’ve in the first place, he put his fingers to Kili’s chin instead of Sam’s and kissed him with all the knowledge of a decade of loving. 

“Tell me the phrase.” Kili demanded, but already he had softened, the hard ugly line of his spine curving into relaxation. 

“It goes a bit like this, forgive me if I have to paraphrase: I, Fili, take you, Kili, as my partner, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer,” Fili kept his gaze steady on Kili’s dark eyes, pouring everything he could into the words, “in sickness and health, to love and to cherish until death takes me.” 

“I really hate you sometimes.” Kili half-laughed, half-sobbed, “I was all prepared to be royally pissed with you.” 

“You still can be.” Fili put slid his hand to the nape of Kili’s neck, kneading the muscles there. “As angry as you want. I’ll sleep on the couch even.” 

“I’ll just wind up sleeping on top of you.” Kili pressed into the touch. “I think that phrase is meant to go both ways.”

“If you like.” 

“I do.” Kili licked his lips and spoke slowly. “I, Kili, take you, Fili, as my partner, to have and to hold, for better or for worse or for much much worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish until death dares to take us.” 

“I like that last bit.” The words shouldn’t mean much, exchanged on playground sand without witnesses, but they still resonated through Fili. Something final had happened here and Fili didn’t doubt he’d remember this swingset for the rest of his life. 

“You’re meant to kiss after.” Kili urged. 

The kiss might have been a little too urgent, almost toppling Kili from his perch. When they parted, Kili grinned in the wild, reckless way Fili loved. 

“Push me.” He demanded. 

“What, right now?” 

“When else?” Kili pushed him gently away. “I want to fly tonight.” 

It was ridiculous and childish, yet strangely right as if the clock had been wound back. To ten and seven, Kili laughing as he climbed the air powered by Fili’s thin arms. To fourteen and twelve, staring across the divide of puberty. To seventeen and fifteen, Fili taking the joint from between Kili’s lips and grinding it under foot. To nineteen and seventeen, stealing time to fumble their way through the beginnings of intimacy. To twenty-three and twenty-one, celebrating with too much liquor and slippery kisses in the dark booth tucked away at the back of a bar. To twenty-seven and twenty-five, moving forty miles away from their only close family to try their hand at living the other side of the lie.

And in the here and now, nearly thirty, the few years between them losing meaning. Fili could imagine Kili with grey streaks in his hair and laugh lines cracking around his eyes. 

Fili pushes turned to caresses. The solid thud of Kili returning to his palms was miraculous and he wanted to savor every second.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day at the zoo.
> 
> Fili is 8, Kili is 6.

The window let in the first sweet breeze of spring as Bofur pared an apple. His hair was pulled into a high bun, exposing the skin at the back of his neck and his t-shirt was old, loose around the collar. Thorin admired him for a moment from the doorway. In the early morning sun, Bofur took on a softer look, muted around the hard edges of muscle. 

When he’d looked his fill, he approached, sliding his arms around Bofur’s waist and kissing the back of his neck. Bofur leaned against him, knife stilling. 

“Good morning.” Bofur tilted his head down, a silent request for more. Thorin obliged, trailing his lips to the exposed blade of one shoulder. 

“Come back to bed.” Thorin invited, leaning forward to rub his cheek to Bofur’s. 

“Can’t.” Bofur sighed, hand covering Thorin’s where it had landed on his stomach. 

“It’s Sunday, Bo. You don’t have to work.” 

“That’s not-” 

“Uncle! Look!” Kili ran into the room, a streak of blue paint over one cheek and lime green on on the other. “I’ve got war paint!” 

“Your sister dropped the boys off about a half hour ago.” Bofur said wryly. “I’ve been keeping them quiet so you could sleep in a bit.” 

“I thought they were coming tomorrow.” Thorin reluctantly let go, leaning down to examine the paint. 

“Something came up.” There was a hard edge to Bofur’s voice that Thorin chose to ignore. He was proud of Dis, how far she’d come in the world just on the power of her wits. If it meant he had to co-parent the boys sometimes, it didn’t bother him. Bofur used words like ‘neglect’ and ‘willful ignorance’ when they fought about it. 

“Very fine warpaint.” Thorin decreed. “Sure to scare the enemy. Where’s your brother?” 

“Playing with Lego.” Kili made a face. “He didn’t wanna fight me.” 

“Probably because you bit him last time.” Bofur handed Kili a few apple slices. 

“It was only a little!” Kili protested, shoving them into his mouth all at once, cheeks ballooning out like a chipmunk. 

“Did have you eat before you came?” Thorin plucked a few stray dark hairs from where they’d stuck to the wet paint. Kili shook his head. 

“S’why I started breakfast.” Bofur pointed out, then called down the hall. “If you want to help me, Fili, best come now.” 

“I wanna help!” Kili said around his mouthful. 

“You can help me.” Thorin swept him up off his feet and held him upside down while Kili giggled. “There’s laundry to be put away.” 

“Noooo!” Kili protested, but became a biddable enough helper, pairing socks and only occasionally jumping into the pile of clean linens. 

Breakfast proved to be sausage, eggs and fruit salad. 

“I helped.” Fili said gravely, chewing his way through his third sausage. “I made all the eggs.” 

“And he didn’t accidentally scramble any of them.” Bofur winked at Fili. “Better than me most days.” 

“Where should we go today?” Thorin asked, picking strawberries off Bofur’s plate. “It’s too nice to stay cooped up on here.” 

“We should go on an adventure!” The egg on Kili’s fork went flying, landing in Fili’s hair. Fili plucked it loose and popped it in his mouth without any trace of concern. 

“Didn’t they open a new tiger exhibit at the zoo?” Bofur reached for the newspaper. “I’m sure I read about it.” 

“I love the zoo! We can see the lions and the bats and the monkeys...” Kili was off and running, out of his chair and down the hallway, presumably to get dressed. 

“What do you think?” Thorin asked Fili, who was still chewing through his last sausage. 

“I like the meerkats.” 

“Right. Lions and tigers and meerkats, oh my!” Bofur laughed. “I’ll pack lunch. If we have to eat there, we’ll go broke.” 

“I’ll help.” Fili slid off his chair and stood at loose attention at Bofur’s side. 

“I’ll go make sure Kili isn’t packing their whole room into his knapsack.” Thorin decided. 

“Find the sunscreen.” Bofur said absently as he started opening cabinets. “If you get burned like last time...” 

“One time!” Thorin protested, but dutifully went off to find the sunscreen. 

It took far longer than it should have to get out of the house. Still it was easier than when the boys were much younger and he’d been wrestling everything on his own. They rarely left the apartment in those days, the complications of a too mobile toddler and a curious baby more of a headache than Thorin was prepared to deal with at home let alone in the aisles of his supermarket. Of course, back then Dis had only left the boys with him for a few hours at a time. She’d rush home for her babies and the boys would go to her as if Thorin had been torturing them the entire time she was away. Time had changed much and Thorin knew that when Dis returned from this outing, the boys would leave reluctantly. 

Thorin credited Bofur. 

“All right, men.” Bofur put his hands to his hips, surveying the three of them. “Let’s move out!” 

The bus ride was mostly uneventful and Kili earned a Jolly Rancher from a grandmotherly woman by asking her a hundred questions about her knitting. Fili leaned into Bofur’s leg, eyes at half-mast for most of the trip. Thorin made a mental note to check in on the boys before he went to bed. Fili had a bad habit of waking in the middle of the night and not falling back to sleep unless someone sat with him for a bit. 

“That’s our stop.” Bofur herded both boys off and through the turnstiles. Thorin procured a map, spreading it open. 

“The lions should be straight ahead.” He traced the green path. “Why don’t we go look at them first.” 

Somehow, they wound up at the reptile house. Bofur laughingly took the map from him. 

“You’re many things,love, but a navigator isn’t one of them.” 

“I wanna look at the snakes.” Kili looked wide-eyed, gravitating back towards Fili’s side, slipping his hand into Fili’s. 

“Ok. At least it’ll be cool in there.” Bofur let the boys lead the way, walking practically on their heels as they went inside. It wasn’t completely dark, but Thorin felt safe putting his hand to the small of Bofur’s back. If they were alone, he would have done whatever he damn well pleased, but he hated causing scenes if the boys were about. 

“That’s a boa constrictor.” Fili pointed and walked up to the glass, Kili trailing along beside him. “Isn’t it cool?” 

“It’s big.” Kili shivered. 

“How about we go look at the geckos?” Thorin suggested. 

They left the reptile house with Kili mimicking a chameleon by trying to lick his own eye and Fili rattling off snake facts like he’d swallowed a documentary. Thorin let his hand drop with a sigh. 

“Buck up.” Bofur glanced around and leaned in to brush a kiss on his cheek. “I’m sure we’ll find the lions eventually.” 

“Ha bloody ha.” 

“Can we feed the goats?” Kili pointed to the petting zoo. 

“Don’t see why not.” Thorin fished coins out of his pocket and handed them to Fili. “Try to come back with the same amount of fingers you went in with.” 

There was an open bench that they settled on together, watching Fili herd Kili from pen to pen, handfuls of pellets held out as offerings. The sun sent drowsy warmth all around them and the air was heavy with the scent of wet earth. 

“Did you ever think...” Bofur began then, trailed off as Thorin slid his arm on the back of the bench. 

“Think what?” He prompted, sliding his fingers under the fall of dark hair. 

“Did you think while we were sweating through sheets in the beginning that we’d wind up like this?” He gestured around the zoo, a hint of a smile on his face. “All weirdly domestic.” 

“I can’t imagine you any other way.” Thorin said honestly. “You like all of this. It suits you.” 

“Maybe.” Bofur smiled, syrup slow. A smile Thorin never knew how to read, but liked anyway. “What about you?” 

“I don’t know. I suppose it isn’t what I imagined when we first met, but I can’t say I was thinking that far ahead.” 

“They’ll be too old for all of this soon.” 

“Don’t depress me.” Thorin groaned. “I like them this size. They can use the bathroom by themselves and actually keep quiet for a few minutes at time, but they haven’t discovered that we’re all awful and they’re smarter than us.” 

“Teenagers.” Bofur wrinkled his nose. 

“We’ll sort it out. We’re the cool uncles, right?” 

“Sure.” Bofur patted him on the leg. “We’ll keep telling ourselves that and maybe one day, it’ll even be true.” 

“Eww!” Kili yipped, wiping his hand on his shirt, leaving behind a sticky trail. 

“And you laughed when I packed the antibacterial stuff.” Bofur pushed off the bench. “Oi! Kili, come here and get cleaned up.” 

“He got licked by a sheep.” Fili trailed after. “It had grass in its mouth.” 

“Lovely.” 

They wound their way to the monkeys after that with a brief pitstop at the penguins. Sandwiches were consumed by the gorillas while Kili feed crumbs to the pigeons. Fili sat next to Thorin, picking each raisin out of his cinnamon raisin bread before eating it. 

“Can we see the meerkats now, please?” Fili asked when he’d wiped the last of the peanut butter from his fingers. 

“I think that can be arranged.” Thorin tousled Fili’s hair. 

“They’re not far.” Bofur got to his feet, tossing away the detritus. 

It was worth the meandering walk to watch Fili practically scale the fence. He watched intently as the meerkats scuttled around their enclosure, stuck their heads out of their holes and groomed each other. 

“Boring.” Kili decreed, yawning widely. 

“It’s not.” Fili tossed back, but his heart wasn’t in it. His eyes stayed glued to his subjects. 

“Fiiiii.” Kili whined. 

“Leave him be, lad.” Thorin put a hand to Kili’s shoulder. “I think there’s ostriches over there. Why don’t we take a look?” 

When Bofur found them again, a reluctant Fili trailing behind him, Kili had already talked Thorin into ice cream. 

“I got cups this time.” He winked at Bofur, handing him a scoop of chocolate and giving a vanilla one to Fili. “Given the last cone fiasco.” 

“We’re going to have to peel Kili off the ceiling, you realize.” 

“I’m sure we’ll all live.” 

“Lions!” Kili grinned, lips smeared pink. 

The big cats were all the way back by the entrance and they had to stop quite a few times before that to admire giraffes, hippos and a flock of sanguine flamingos. Fili was dragging again by the time they reached the pen and even Kili had begun to fade a little. 

“Are they gone?” Kili searched the enclosure for the lions. 

“They’re just sleeping in a corner.” Thorin scooped him up and set Kili on his shoulders. “See there?” 

“Yeah! One of them yawned. I can see all her teeth.” 

“I saw a circus man stick his head in a lion’s mouth once.” Fili stood on the lower wooden beam of the fence. 

“Those were trained lions, I’d guess.” Bofur leaned in a little. “Ah! Look ones coming to say hello.” 

The male lion stretched and padded to a large boulder at the center of the enclosure. He surveyed the area with sleepy interest. 

“That’s how you look first thing in the morning.” Bofur grinned.

“Is it now?” Thorin laughed. 

“You do look like a lion.” Kili tugged a little at Thorin’s hair. “You roar like one too.” 

“Only when someone pulls his tail.” Bofur held his hands up, helping Kili back down to earth. 

The bus ride home consisted of Kili wearing off the last bit of sugar by plaguing his brother with every animal question he could think of. Fili answered the ones he could and sent pleading looks to his uncles every time he got stumped. 

“You know nearly everything.” Kili declared as they got off the bus, probably to the relief of many passengers. 

“No, I don’t.” For the first time all day, Fili smiled big enough to show off his missing left canine. 

“Is he alright, do you think?” Thorin asked quietly, letting the boys run on ahead toward the apartment building. 

“Fili?” Bofur watched them run. “I was going to ask you the same thing. I thought maybe he was just tired, but he’s been sort of low key all day.” 

“I’ll talk to him when you tuck Kili in.” 

Dinner was take out eaten around another viewing of Return of the Jedi. Kili coaxed Fili into acting out the light saber battles with him and they were both laughing by the end of it. 

“Go wash up for bed.” Bofur declared when the credits rolled. 

“But-” 

“Off you go.” Thorin said firmly. 

The second bedroom had long ago been turned over to the boys. Two twin beds with matching dark blue sheets and glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. Kili was already half-asleep and ornery with it when Bofur bundled him into bed. 

“Why does Fili get to stay up later?” He whined, but Thorin missed Bofur’s answer as he herded Fili back into the living room. 

“One half-hour show.” Thorin reminded him, then let Fili loose on the odd stack of badly taped Sunday morning cartoons. He settled on Transformers, humming through the theme song and slowly leaning into Thorin as he got more comfortable. 

“Is everything ok?” Thorin asked at last, smoothing a few stray hairs from Fili’s forehead. 

“Yeah.” Fili yawned, tucking a bit closer. 

“You sure? You seemed a little down today.” 

“I wasn’t.” The protest was weakened by a tiny sigh. 

“It’s ok, Fili. Whatever it is.” 

“It’s just...” Fili pulled at a loose strand of his hair. “We were supposed to spend today with Mom and Dad. We were going to go see a movie.” 

“I know. I’m sorry they couldn’t go with you. Maybe we can see it next weekend.” 

“But I wanted to see it with them.” Fili scrubbed his sleeve over his eyes. 

“It’s ok, lad. They’ll be back before you know it.” With a heave, Thorin pulled the boy into his lap. He was surprised by the weight of him and his long limbs. Soon he’d be too big to sit in laps and thought gave Thorin an unexpected pang. “They love you.” 

“Then how come they can’t wait to get rid of us?” Fili ducked his head into Thorin’s chest, burrowing in like one of the meerkats. “I try hard to be good and make Kili be good, but we forget and-”

“It isn’t you, lad. Nothing you could do could make your parents love you any less or want to leave you. They just have very important work to do, far away, but I know if they could then they’d be home right now.” 

“Then why don’t they find other jobs?” 

Thorin rubbed Fili’s back and tried to find an answer. For the first time, he didn’t have an easy one to give. The years were coming when they’d be full of these kinds of questions. He felt massively under qualified. 

“They’re trying to make the world a better place for you and your brother.” Bofur said gently, sitting down next to them. “Sometimes parents have to make hard decisions like that. For them its be at home with you or do the hard work that means your life will be better than theirs was.” 

“I wish it was different.” Fili sniffed. 

“Oh, lad.” Bofur sighed. “We all do.” 

It took a little more talking, but Fili seemed soothed enough to sleep. Thorin picked him up, gangly limbs and all, carrying him into the bedroom and tucking him in. Kili twitched in his sleep, then relaxed. 

“Good night, little prince.” Thorin kissed Fili on the forehead, the old nickname coming back to him, bittersweet. 

Bofur hadn’t left the couch, staring blankly at the staticky tv. Turning it off, Thorin sat down beside him, undoing the elastic that held back Bofur's hair. The first time they’d met, Bofur had still been every inch a soldier, ramrod posture and perfectly kept. Now he was shaggy and loose, spoiled from two years of soft living and, Thorin liked to think, far happier.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He murmured, carding his fingers through thick dark locks. “Don’t think I could do this without you.” 

“Sappy.” Bofur accused with a smile. “Doesn’t sound like you.” 

“I have my moments.” Thorin hid his smile in the line of Bofur’s jaw. 

“You know what Fili told me about meerkats?” 

“Everything he’s ever read or seen?” 

“Funny. And...well yeah, probably.” He huffed a laugh. “His head will explode with all those facts one day.” 

“What did he tell you?” 

“That meerkats are the most cooperative species around. They help each other with everything. They’ve got these huge families and all of them watch out for each other.” 

“Sounds about right.” Thorin grinned. “Should we dig a burrow then?” 

“And live under the earth? Why not?” Bofur grinned into a kiss, shifting to straddle Thorin’s lap. “Could be cozy.”

They lost an hour or so in the best way possible, keeping each other quiet with well placed hands and nips. Sated, Bofur got into the shower and left Thorin to poke his head around the boys’ door. The nightly migration had already occurred, Kili escaping from between his own sheets to crawl in next to his brother. Fili had apparently slept through it for once, arm tossed over Kili and his face buried in the now shared pillow. 

“Hope he’s not dreaming of snakes.” Bofur commented as he went by, trailing steam and mint behind him. 

“Not tonight. Think he’s too worn out for nightmares.” 

In the darkness of their bedroom, Thorin shucked off his clothes and tossed them haphazardly at the hamper. Bofur was already on his stomach, chin on his pillow and eyes floating shut. Thorin crawled in beside him. He listened to Bofur’s breathing grow deep and even, the shadows shifting over his exposed pale shoulders. Abandoned to the dark alone, Thorin rolled onto his back. 

It was probably masochistic, but the ritual was one of the few things that soothed his restless mine late at night. He closed his eyes and imagined the entrance-way, pushed through the polished doors and into the cool vestibule, lined gently trickling fountains and the broad half-moon of the reception desk. The elevators carried him up and up, his mother’s music playing through the speakers. 

The doors opened onto the generous hallways and glass offices of the VPs. Thorin never imagined the men who had sat behind them, their faces lost to time and names trapped in legal papers as dry as the Sahara. Instead, he saw their offices and the break room reeking of burnt coffee and someone’s lunch spinning in the microwave. He walked all the way down the hall to Patty’s desk, her red coffee mug sitting out half-full and the bowl of peppermints overflowing. 

Behind her desk, two massive doors stood sentinel. Thorin touched the gloss of the wood and the graceful curve of stone that stood in place of a normal handle. He opened the doors slowly. 

Here in this grand sweep of room looking down on miles of city, Thorin had been taught everything he knew about being a man. His grandfather had sat in the thickly padded leather chair and held his grandson on his knee as he went about the business of running his empire. When his grandfather died, it was his father that sat in his place and Thorin beside him, an apprentice and heir all at once. 

He never pictured himself sitting in that chair. Instead, he stood beside it and looked down over the city. Though he could still hear Bofur’s breathing and their neighbors settling into bed on the other side of the wall, Thorin was a hundred miles away. For the few glorious minutes before sleep, Erebor was his again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The birds and the bees and the importance of lubrication.

A documentary on bears rambled quietly onward, ignorant of the late hour. Fili watched it with half an eye, the rest of his attention on Kili. It had been a long day and Kili hadn’t said a word when he finally got home. Just kicked off his shoes, crawled over the couch and put his head in Fili’s lap in silent demand. They’d been there ever since and Kili had long ago dozed off, his nose whistling a little as Fili ran his fingers through his dark hair. 

_Bzzzzt_ Fili’s phone commented politely, _bzzzzzt_

Frowning, he grabbed it off the end table without jostling Kili too badly. _Sam_ read the display. He stabbed the call open quickly. 

“Sam?” 

“Hi.” Sam said quietly. “I’m sorry to bother you so late. Only I know you said I could call you whenever. So.” 

“It’s fine. What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing!” Sam protested. “Well, I mean nothing important. Or life threatening. Or anything.”

“Good to know. So what is it?” 

Kili made a soft sound of protest and Fili rubbed his thumb into the back of Kili’s neck, feeling him go pleasantly boneless again. 

“I...” Sam took a deep shuddering breath. “I need to ask you about some stuff. Private stuff.” 

“About me?” 

“No! Well. Sort of?” 

Fili leaned his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. 

“Sam. Tell me or I’ll start imagining the worst.” 

“Frodo...he wants me to...you know.” Sam coughed. “Um. Top.” 

“Oh.” Fili’s eyes shot open. “You’ve been together for six months. Hasn’t this come up before?” 

“Um. It has. I keep putting him off. Only I don’t mind and he’s...” Sam groaned. “I’m going to mess it up, I know it. I don’t want to hurt him or anything, but now he thinks I don’t want him or some nonsense or another. I told him I was afraid and he got all pissed that I thought he was a delicate flower. We had a huge fight. Made up yesterday, but its bad, you know? I’ve got to do this. I even want to, I’m just all...” 

“Yeah.” Fili traced the curve of Kili’s shoulder under his t-shirt. “I know. Ok. So what do you need from me? Pep talk?” 

“I’ve read a few things. Watched...well. But just tell me how I can do this without hurting him.” 

“Oh, Sammy.” Fili pressed his lips together. “You can’t.” 

_”Are you sure?” There was a beast in Fili’s chest, ripping it to shreds._

_“Yes.” Kili spread his thighs, the thick mane of his hair fanned out over the sheets. “Please._

“What do you mean?” 

“It hurts the first few times. It doesn’t matter what you do. You get used to it after awhile.” 

“I thought maybe...” 

“Maybe what?” 

“Frodo is sort of...I like it, but I just thought...” 

Fili didn’t feel qualified for this conversation. He wanted to tell Sam to ask anyone else on God’s green earth. But there was no one else. Sam’s father had made peace with his choice of mate’s, but wasn’t up to going much deeper. He had few friends and none of them that close. Frodo was his life and Fili understood that all too well. 

_“Fuck, don’t cry.” Fili kissed Kili’s tears away. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”_

_“Shut up.” Kili laughed, watery, but real. “I’ll live.”_

_“But-”_

_“No one said it’d be easy.” Kili touched his nose to Fili’s. “Nothing worth having ever is.”_

“If he’s too rough on you, you should tell him. You’ve never bled have you?” 

Sam went quiet. 

_"Oh, God. Do you think you need a doctor?"_

_"And what should we tell them when we go?" Kili shook his head. "I'll be fine, I swear it. There's no blood or anything. It just hurts."_

_"I'm so-"_

_"If you apologize one more time, I may actually hit you."_

“No, Sam...” He exhaled shakily. “Lubricant. As much as you think you need and then twice that and a dollop more. Do you understand?” 

“But-” 

“I don’t care what noise it makes or how it feels.” He pressed his hand to Kili’s back, felt the rise and fall of his breathing. “Rough is fine. Bleeding can get dangerous.” 

“Ok. Lubricant.” Sam agreed. 

“Then prep. Lots and lots of prep. It’s not always sexy, but it’s necessary.” 

_“Enough already.” Kili groaned. “I’m going to die of boredom.”_

_“I can barely get both fingers in there.”_

_“It’ll be fine. Come on already.”_

“Ok.” Sam took a deep breath and let it out noisily. “I can do that.” 

“And talk.” Fili bent enough to press a kiss to Kili’s temple. Kili smiled and made a content sleepy noise. “Talk and talk and ask until he wants to slap you. Then ask again. If you have doubts, nothing will soothe them, but asking.” 

_"What about this way?"_

_"Ugh no. Just...take it out. Stop."_

“We’re not talking about sex any more are we?” Sam said softly. 

“We are. But other stuff too.” Fili sat back up, smoothed down the wrinkle in Kili’s brow. “You must’ve read all of this though. I can’t be helping that much.” 

“You are though. Books don’t know. They’re not flesh and blood. They don’t understand that some things are precious.” 

He could picture Sam, sitting alone in his small apartment at the rickety kitchen table that he’d bought off Craigslist. Fili had spent the day there with him when he first moved in, arranged the few items Sam had to his name. They’d shared the first bitter coffee from the wheezing percolator inherited from Bilbo. Sam had looked well-satisfied that day and though he didn’t say it, Fili knew why. It was the first few twigs in a carefully built nest, a monument built out of a faithful, patient heart. 

“That’s true.” Fili smiled. “But remember you’re precious too, ok? Not just to Frodo. Whatever care you show him should be returned.” 

“It is.” Sam assured him. “I promise. He’s just dreamy, you know? Sometimes I think he doesn’t understand the real world and the natural consequences of things.” 

“Oh. I know.” 

“I guess Kili’s sort of the same?”

“Sam, people like you and I? Sometimes we need reminders that the real world is a fucking horrible place to live. Dreams are far lovelier and they last a surprisingly long time. Its about balance.” 

“Even if I think he’s about to do something ridiculous?” 

“Well. No. Balance, Sam. Balance.” 

“Ugh.” Kili rubbed his face onto Fili’s thigh. “Talking.” 

“You drooled on me.” Fili informed him. 

“Excuse me?” Sam said, amused. 

“Not you.” Fili snorted. “You good? We can talk longer if you want.” 

“I’m good. Thanks, for talking to me.” 

“Anytime. Remember what I told you. Be well.” 

“Ok. Night, Fili.” 

“Night, Sam.” 

“What did he want?” Kili rolled over, his t-shirt riding up and exposing a stripe of his furred stomach. 

“You’ll probably laugh.” Fili ran his hand along that tempting reveal. 

“Maybe.” Yawning, Kili reached up to pat Fili loosely on the cheek. 

“He wanted advice. Frodo wants him to top and Sam’s nervous about it.” 

“What did you tell him?” 

“The usual. Lube, prep, talk. Nothing he couldn’t find on the internet. I think he just needed some reassurance.” Fili cupped Kili’s hip. “Connection.” 

“I wish you’d had that.” His eyes were practically black in low light of the room, gorgeous and a little sad. “Wish you’d had someone that could take away the worry.” 

“I did.” Fili frowned. “There was you.” 

“Please. You shook your way through our first time, don’t you remember?” 

“I remember, but its still a good memory.” 

“I doubt that. I egged you on too fast and you were too nervous. I was in pain and you were in agony.”

“And afterwards, I kissed every inch of your skin.” Fili trailed a finger under the waistband of Kili’s pants. “We took a shower together and you let me wash your hair. It was the first night that we slept in a bed that could hold us both, but you still fell asleep half on top of me. I remember all of that. I remember looking at you and truly believing for the first time that it was all worth it.” 

Kili got up and maneuvered until he was straddling Fili’s lap, he kissed him once, lightly. 

“Maybe it’s selfish, but I hope you didn’t tell Sam that.” 

“No. That’s private.” 

“Good.” Kili ground down a little, his eyelids shuttering. “You know, for all that sweet romantic talk, we’ve both gotten much better at all of that since then.” 

“I had noticed. You not crying for one. Distinct upgrade.” 

“And you letting go.” Kili ran speculative fingers over Fili’s chest. “Maybe being a little rough.” 

“Mhmm.”

“I like when you show it to me just as much as when you tell me.” 

“Oh?” Fili smothered his smile in Kili’s neck, nipping lightly at the skin there. 

“You’ve got a way with your body. Speaks better than words.” Tilting to give Fili better access, Kili made a soft pleasured noise. 

It wasn’t as easy as when they were younger and fitter, but Fili still manged to stand and hold Kili’s wait upright. Carrying him up the stairs was more than a little daring, but the moment seemed to call for it. 

“What are you doing!” Kili laughed, clinging to him tightly. “Have you lost your mind?” 

“No.” Fili dumped him onto their bed, watched Kili spread out below him as open and ready as that first night. “Just living the dream.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He left.” The words were bare, scratched out things.

“I’m so jealous.” Kili groused, crunching his way through a piece of toast. “Three months on a European cruise.” 

“You’d lose your mind by the end of the second week.” Fili dropped a kiss on the top of his head then went to top off his coffee. 

“Maybe. Could still use a nice vacation though.” 

“Big anniversary next year. Could travel to celebrate. What do you think?” 

“Really?” 

“Why not?” He settled across the table, tangling their legs together. “We haven’t left the country in ages and longer still for anything fun. If we save a little, we can make a nice thing of it.” 

“Mm. Sounds nice.” Kili wiped a smear of butter off on a napkin. “Still, you have to admit that you wish you were with Uncle and Bilbo.” 

“Maybe a little.” He laughed. “But not once Uncle has to explain why Bilbo can’t climb to the top of every mountain they come across. Man will not accept his limits, swear to God.” 

Fili’s cell phone buzzed unobtrusively on the table, knocking against Kili’s. 

“Who’d call this early on a Saturday?” 

Fili reached for the phone and raised an eyebrow, “Sam.” 

“Of course.” Kili rolled his eyes. Though he’d never said it outright, Kili still held a small flare of jealousy against Sam. 

“He was meant to see Bofur and Bilbo off this morning. Ok, if I take it?” 

Kili flopped his hand dismissively, so Fili thumbed accept. 

“Hey, Sam.” 

“He left.” The words were bare, scratched out things. 

“Sam?” Fili frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“I knew things were bad. I’m not an idiot.” Sam went on, seemingly oblivious to Fili’s questions. “He’s been off for a long time, but I thought...I thought we could get through it. But he just gave me that smile of his, that ‘I know better than you and I love you anyway’ thing that he does. Looks like an angel and walks off.” 

“Frodo?” Fili’s stomach clenched. “He left you?” 

“What?” Kili mouthed at him, Fili shook his head. 

“He went on the cruise with Bilbo. Said he had to get his head on straight. As if I couldn’t help with that. Like I haven’t held his hand through all of it.” There was a wrenching sob on the other end of the phone. “I worried sometimes, you know? That he’d go. But I never imagined it like this. That he’d plan it out and not tell me. Just sail off.” 

“Oh my God.” Fili reached across the table, Kili’s hand quickly encasing his own. “Where are you?” 

“Home. I didn’t know where else to go. But I sat down in the living room and its all filled with our things. How could he do this to me?” 

“You should go.” Kili squeezed his hand. “Bring him back here.” 

“You sure?” Fili asked, hand over the mouthpiece. 

“He can have the couch as long he needs it.” 

Fili poured all the love he could into his eyes. 

“Stay right where you are, ok? I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

“Yeah.” Sam said vaguely. 

Fili hung up reluctantly, gulped down the rest of his coffee and went looking for his shoes. 

“Call me when you get there and don’t drive crazy.” Kili bussed him on the cheek. “Poor kid.” 

“You don’t seem surprised.” Fishing his keys out of the bowl by the door, Fili leaned in for a better, longer kiss. 

“That would be because I’m not.” Kili opened the door for him. “We’ll talk about it later. Sam shouldn’t have to be alone.” 

Fili didn’t drive crazy, but he did push his car a little harder than a normal commute. He made the hour’s drive in forty-five minutes. The cobblestone driveway rattled his teeth, putting him even further on edge. He jogged up the path and knocked on the door. It opened under his fist, a carelessness from the usually meticulous Sam that shook him. 

“Sam?” He called out. 

“In here.” Came a half-powered call from the kitchen. Fili had always liked the little house with its warm homey touches, so familiar from Bilbo’s cottage. Sam had purchased it on his own just last year after a lucrative corporate landscaping job. It had struck Fili as odd that Frodo hadn’t wanted his name on the mortgage, but now it boiled his blood. How long had this been planned? 

Sam sat at his table, a bottle of whiskey unopened in front of him. His hair was a wreck, eyes red rimmed and hands shaking around an empty glass. 

“Hey.” Fili put a hand to Sam’s shoulder. “I came as soon as I could.” 

“Shouldn’t have bothered you.” Sam scrubbed at his eyes with a hand. “I’m not fit company.” 

“Didn’t come for the company.” He hooked a chair with his foot and dragged it over, sitting down close enough that their knees bumped. “You never told me things were rough.” 

“I didn’t...it wasn’t mine to tell. Things were fine between us. I thought.” Sam looked skyward as if it could keep the tears from spilling. “He was odd though. Has been for some time. I tried to get him to talk to someone. He said it was a shadow in his mind, something he couldn’t talk away. I thought maybe he was going through something. I talked to Bilbo about it and he talked to Frodo. Seemed to do good for awhile, but I think- god. I think they came up with this trip idea.”

“Going with them on the cruise?” 

“Yeah. Bofur seemed surprised about the whole thing, so don’t you go getting mad at him.” 

“I’m not.” It hadn’t even occurred to Fili that Bofur might be involved. It had the taste of Baggins to it all the way around. “I’m surprised he didn’t kick him right back off. I imagine there’s a fight going on right now.” 

“Maybe.” Sam shrugged, one shouldered. “It was so fast. I didn’t really believe it at first. But he kissed me on the forehead and he said ‘’You cannot always be torn in two.You will have to be one and whole, for many years. You have so much to enjoy and to be, and to do.’ It sounded like one of the lines out of his books. What does it even mean? I wasn’t torn in anything. I wanted to be with him and now I’m not.” 

“I don’t know.” Fili took the empty glass from him. “Do you want to get drunk?” 

“Yes.” Sam sighed. “And no. I shouldn’t. I already feel like shit. Don’t need a hangover on top of it.” 

“Why don’t you come back home with me for a few days? Kili will pour some beer down your throat and you can be hung over and miserable on our couch?” 

“ I couldn’t impose.” Sam swallowed hard. “ And I’ve got clients.” 

“Just for the rest of the weekend then.” Fili poured water into the glass, shoved it into Sam’s hand. “Drink. Come home with me.” 

“I should have done more.” Sam sipped at the water. “I should have made him go to a therapist or gone with him. Or paid more attention.” 

“What do you need for a weekend away?” Fili prodded. “On your feet, Sammy. Come on.” 

Between the two of them, they got a bag packed. Fili slipped extra changes of clothes into it while Sam was in the bathroom. It’d be hard to convince Sam to give his responsibilities a rest, but he would do his best. He called Kili and told him that they were headed back. 

“I’ll put an order in at the Hard Wok. Pick it up on your way home and I’ll figure out some mindless movies.” 

“You’re brilliant.” Fili sighed. “I really do love you, you know.”

“No need to get sappy. I’m not going anywhere.” 

“I know, but I wanted to tell you anyway.” 

The drive back was more sedate. Sam, wrung dry and headachey, leaned his head on the glass and watched the landscape smear by while Fili listened to the news. When they made it back to the condo, Fili hustled him up the stairs and then herded him to the couch, before bringing the two heavy bags of food into the kitchen. 

“Did you order one of everything?” He called out. 

“Might’ve done.” Kili admitted, coming down the stairs, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. “Hello, Sam.” 

“Hi.” Sam gave him a watery smile. “Sorry to crash.” 

“No worries.” Kili shrugged. “What’s a few cushions between friends? Now, what do you think Mission Impossible or Die Hard?” 

They watched action movies and put away a stupefying amount of Chinese food until Sam at last nodded off. Fili threw a blanket over him. Tenderness overcame him and he swept a lock of hair off Sam’s forehead. 

“Come to bed.” Kili murmured and drew him up the stairs. Once in their bed though, Kili pulled out his laptop. “Bofur sent us an email. Saw it on my phone, but I didn’t want to read it in front of him, you know?” 

“Yeah.” Fili curled in close, tilting the screen so he could see. 

_Hello lads,_

_As you probably already know our retirement bash isn’t off to the best start. Frodo is here with us, currently asleep. Don’t go thinking that I had anything to do with this, but after talking it out with Bilbo, I’ve got an idea why this fell out the way it did. Maybe you haven’t noticed, being farther away and not seeing it every day, but Frodo’s a pale imitation of himself lately. Bilbo took him around to a few doctors, neurologists and the like to rule out anything physical, but they all said the same thing: clinical depression. Its impossible to know how long this has been brewing. According to some high paid doctors, kids who lose their parents early life can go through a second mourning periods as adults. And then there’s a history of depression in the Baggins line though it was the first I’d heard of it today._

_There’s a ‘spa retreat’ in Barcelona where Frodo will be disembarking. They’ll give him the care that he needs to fight this. Bilbo felt they were the best care he could afford and you know he won’t stint on Frodo._

_Why Sam wasn’t told, I’m not sure. Bilbo only says that Frodo was insistent on it. He seems to think that he cannot get better. That Sam deserves a different life. He mentioned a woman’s name, Rosie. Do either of you know who she is?_

_I don’t know what else to say, except my heart is broken for Sam and for Frodo. Take care of our lad._

_With all my love,  
Bofur _

“You knew.” Fili said softly. 

“I suspected. He was such a lively kid and then he started shutting down. Not all at once or anything. His dissertation was my first clue.” 

“But he hasn’t finished it yet.” 

“Exactly. The boy who could write circles around his classmates.” Kili said dryly. “Six years of working on it and he stopped talking about it entirely last year.” 

“He looked a little pale the last few months.” Fili allowed. “But Sam must have noticed. He said he suspected something, how could he not see that?” 

“Because Sam has spent his entire life taking care of Frodo. He always treated him like glass, so why would he notice when Frodo actually became fragile?” 

“That’s harsh.” 

“Probably, but I’m not sentimental about him the way you are.” Kili closed the laptop, setting it aside. “Either of them. Sam has always been Frodo’s caretaker before his lover.”

“What’s wrong with caring for someone?” Fili asked, annoyance prickling at the back of his neck. 

“Nothing.” Kili sighed. “You aren’t Sam, Fi. And I’m not Frodo. I’ve never let you dote on me that way. Never let you take on all the chores and act like a manservant. You’ve never tried. We take turns carrying the burdens, watching out for each other. Frodo carries that heavy brain of him and Sam does the rest.” 

“They love each other. So much.” Fili said helplessly, irritation receding as quickly as it had come. “You’ve seen that.” 

“And love isn’t enough.” Kili drew him in, an arm around his shoulders and his lips pressing heavily at Fili’s temple. “Stubbornness, communication, devotion, fighting, fucking, respect, attention...we’ve need all of it and then some. If we were running only on love, we wouldn’t be talking about twentieth anniversary plans.” 

“I wanted that for Sam.” 

“I know.” Kili sighed. “I know you did.” 

Sam spent the next two days haunting their living room. He looked pasty and his eyes were always glassy though Fili never caught him out right crying. After mulling and talking it over with Kili, Fili showed him Bofur’s email and some of the subsequent non-updates. Frodo was sleeping a lot, apparently and not talking much when he was awake. 

“I’d get him up and about if I was there.” Sam choked. “He needs motivation to get out of bed in the morning. Breakfast or...fuck. Why didn’t I see it? It was so gradual like he was fading and I didn’t notice. Not really.” 

“You were doing your best.” It rang a little hollow even to Fili’s ears. He changed the direction quickly. “Who’s Rosie?” 

“Oh.” Sam let his head drop to the back of the couch. “She’s the bartender at the place down the road from us. We used to see her when we went out for dinner on the Thursdays. Very pretty, always beating them off with a stick. I think she liked that we weren’t at all interested. We’d talk football usually. She’s a Jets fan.” 

“Why would Frodo mention her to Bilbo?” 

“He did?” Sam groaned. “He always had some crazy notion that I liked her. Thought it was sort of sweet at first, actually. I mean, him getting jealous over me? But he got very serious about it and not in a jealous sort of way. Just sad like I was giving something up by being with him.” 

“Were you?” The question leaves his lips before he could think it out all the way. 

“No.” Sam said fiercely. 

“It’s ok if you were. We all give things up. Hell, some of us chuck everything overboard.” He pointed out wryly. “Regrets are a part of life.” 

“I want children.” The admittance was so soft, Fili almost couldn’t make it out. “Not one or two either. A whole swarm of them. Frodo...doesn’t. At all.” 

“You talked to him about it?” 

“Once or twice. When I bought the house, showed him the yard. I talked about swingsets and he talked about roses.” Sam snorted. “Supposed to be me thinking about the garden, right?” 

“What did you decide in the end? After these conversations.” 

“I...nothing. Frodo would shake his head and I’d drop it. I figured we’d work it out eventually.” 

“When?” 

Sam fell silent, rubbing his hands restlessly over his thighs. 

“You thought he’d change his mind?” Fili nudged hopefully. 

“No. I knew he wouldn’t. I don’t know what I thought. That it would work out somehow. That we could have kids and a dog and the whole white picket fence life. He’s allergic to dogs, you know?” Sam laughed mirthlessly. “You must think I’m an idiot.” 

“I don’t. I think you were in love.” 

“How long do I get to use that excuse? Of course I love him. Crazy about him. I’d jump in the ocean and swim to him if I thought he’d take me back. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have thought practically about it. You guys, you’re not normal. Childhood sweethearts don’t stay together. People change. He changed.” Sam huffed out a hard breath. “I’ve changed.” 

“Once he’s finished treatment, he might regret it all. Come back to you.” 

“And what then? Do I take him back? Keep going with the life we were living? Pretend it never happened?” 

“I wouldn’t recommend the pretending.” Kili came down the stairs, a pensive line etched between his brows. 

“I don’t think he was being serious.” Fili smiled tightly at Kili. 

“He was, a little.” Kili sat down on the coffee table directly in front of Sam. “Look, I know you’re here for solace and advice from Fili, but would you mind hearing a little from me?” 

“No, of course not.” Ever polite, Sam straightened up and gave Kili his full attention. 

“Do what he told you to do. Live your life as if he were gone. As if he were never coming back. For a few months, live your own life.” Kili said tightly. “You’ve been in love with him so long, you don’t know who you are without him. So let it go. He’s giving you that chance and it might be the kindest thing he’s done for you in a long time.” 

“And what happens when he’s better? When he comes home?” 

“Then he has to deal with the consequences. Maybe there won’t be any. You’ve been patient and waited for him before. Maybe that’s who you are without him: the man who waits.” Kili shrugged. “But that’s something you should find out.” 

“I...need to go for a walk.” Sam got to his feet. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” They watched him leave and the door slammed into heavy silence. 

“Frodo and Sam were older than us when we got together.” Fili knit his brows together. 

“I know.” Kili scooted across the table until their legs slotted together like jigsaw puzzles. “But I don’t give a shit who I would’ve been without you.” 

“Isn’t that a little hypocritical?” He asked, though he took in a relieved breath. 

“You never left me cold and alone. Maybe my life is too wrapped up in yours, but you’ve always returned the favor.” 

“There’s a not very nice word for that.” Fili took Kili’s hand in his, rubbed his thumb over familiar callouses. 

“Less nice than incestuous?” Kili smiled. “Anyway, he won’t listen to me.” 

Sam went home the next day, thanking them both profusely and following the words with a fruit basket. Their life went on, newly punctuated by emails from distant cities. Bofur and Bilbo were smiling in front of all monuments they saw and it seemed genuine enough, despite the dark cloud their trip had begun on. They looked a little older to Fili’s eyes. For the first time, he saw that Bofur was no longer so broad shouldered and that Bilbo’s hair had more white than silver. 

Every Friday, Fili called Sam and chatted with him about little things. In beginning, Sam brought Frodo up frequently. Over time, the mentions became less and less frequent. Frodo never contacted Sam, but the ‘spa’ sent Bilbo weekly updates that were dutifully passed on. 

“He’s been talking about traveling once he’s released.” Sam told Fili, two months in. “Finding himself.” 

“Oh?” 

“You know what I found out when I traveled? I liked being home more. Guess I’ll always be that guy. I like my house and my yard.” 

“Nothing wrong with that.” 

“I’m going to get a dog.” There was a rustling in the background, papers maybe. “A hypoallergenic one.”

“Good idea.” Fili tried to smile as he said it, hoping Sam would hear the approval. 

The labradoodle pup was the runt of the litter, but she grew into a gangly collection of fluff before long. Sam called her Daisy and she became a permanent fixture at his side, perfectly obedient and full of slobbering affection. 

“Can we get a dog?” Kili asked wistfully a visit. 

“Sure thing.” Fili laughed. “Long as you walk it, feed it and clean up after it.” 

“Ugh, I do enough of that at work. Forget it.” 

Bilbo and Bofur came home with little fanfare, but Frodo stayed in Spain. Kili got a sinus infection that took two weeks to shake and Fili designed a curving overpass that his boss liked. And Frodo stayed in Spain. Sam’s business grew like gangbusters over the summer with his full attention and then some. And Frodo stayed in Spain. 

Fall showed up, chilly and wet. Kili threw Fili a thirty-ninth birthday party. Sam turned up with Rosie, introduced her around. She was a lovely girl, but Sam only smiled gently at her during the party and left her alone as much as he could without being rude. Fili never saw her again. And still Frodo stayed away. 

He stayed away so long that winter melted into spring. He stayed away so long that even Bilbo was starting to wonder if he’d ever come back. 

That Fili happened to be there when Frodo came home at last was pure chance. He’d found a few interesting flowers on a build site that he thought Sam might be interested in. They were chatting in the front yard when the crunch of gravel broght both their heads up. 

“Hi.” Frodo’s hands were tucked into worn jean pockets. His hair had been shaved close to his skull and his skin had tanned. He looked raw and real, but not at all fragile. “I’m sorry. I should have called, but I thought you might not pick up. And I wanted to see you.” 

Sam didn’t speak. He crossed the distance between them and took Frodo into his arms, hugging him tightly. Frodo set his chin on Sam’s shoulder, returning the embrace with eyes screw shut. 

“I’m so sorry.” His voice carried, tight and thick with emotion. “I am so so sorry, Sam.” 

Sam said nothing, only clung on as if Frodo might disappear if he didn’t. Fili backed away into the house, trying to decide if he should give them privacy or stay for moral support. In the end, it was all over before he could make up his mind. Sam came back into the house, Daisy circling warily around his feet, without Frodo. 

“He’s staying at Bilbo’s for now.” Sam absently ran his hand over Daisy’s head. “But he’s going to find a place in the city, finish his doctorate up finally.” 

“And what about you?” 

“My life is here.” Sam waved a hand around the house. “When he’s ready, if he wants to, there’ll always be space for him.” 

“And you’re ok with that?” 

“Hell no.” Clapping Fili on the shoulder, Sam drew the bottle of whiskey down from the top of the fridge. “But it’s the only thing that makes sense to me.” 

They drank to that. 

“You were right.” Fili told Kili the next day, hung over and sentimental. “About Sam needing to live his own life.” 

“I’m a very wise man.” Kili rubbed the tensed muscles at the base of Fili’s neck. “But only because I learned from the best.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bifur has never understood his family.

Bifur never understood his family.

It began with his mother, a Dain, through and through, despite the weak blood tie. She had thick red hair that she wore in a long braid down her back and ivory skin speckled with freckles. In the mornings, she sang to her boys and fed them as if a good breakfast could armor them against all the evils of the world. After the ruination of Erebor, she worked as a seamstress and spent her days hunched over her sewing machine. Her own clothes were billowing things, diaphanous dresses and harem pants. Bifur called her Mama, her husband called her ‘my heart’ and everyone else ‘Sophia’ though her name was Sofar. 

Then there was his father,a thwarted poet, leaving behind the nation of his birth to marry the woman he’d danced with one brilliant night on a white sandy beach. He was dark from the curls that spilled over his eyes to the sun seared color of his skin. In the evenings, he’d gather his boys close and taught them the names of the stars. When Erebor ceased to exist, he drifted from job to job, good with his hands, but ground down with taking orders from strangers that couldn’t understand him through his accent. Bifur called him Abba, his wife ‘sweetheart’ and everyone else ‘Barak’. 

One would expect that such a couple would have dreamy children with stars in their eyes and songs on their lips. Instead, on their first try they had Bifur. He was a solid sort of boy, dependable and always ready to mete out mercy as well as justice. Though he had a passable voice, he rarely sang. Though he could memorize the names, the shine of the stars or their poetry did little for him. Instead, he spent his pocket change on comic books and his free time playing football with his mates. 

When they tried a second time, they had more luck. Bofur was wholly his father’s. He loved the way his Abba talked as if everything in life had the potential for beauty. They studied the workings of small things together from plants to machines. Abba had a knack for finding the best kinds of books with big illustrations or a secondhand steal that let them take apart radios and toasters.

On the third try, there was Bombur, beloved baby, that took after their mother the most. He clung the longest to her legs and preferred more than anything to stay with her at home. She indulged him without guilt, saving much of her gentleness and many scones for him. Between them they knew the words to a thousand songs and could spend many happy hours in the kitchen with music and sugar shared between them.

Bifur looked after them both with the diligent care of a good elder brother, but he couldn’t answer any of Bofur’s thousand questions or sit idly with Bombur through late afternoons.

For their part, his parents tried their best. Mama cleaned his cuts and put witchhazel on the bruises he carried home. His father built him a goal that folded up and could be set out on the street on a quiet day. Beyond that, they mostly let him be. He was rarely in trouble and often the agent of ending it, so he went on his way unmolested by parental forces.

When he came home from school, he’d settle into his room content to be on his own for the most part. He didn’t mind that the rest of his family were engaged in pursuits that didn’t interest him. After all, he had his comics to read and homework to do. Until one day when he was about eight, when Bofur wandered into his room.

“What’re you doing?”

“Reading.” Bifur waved the comic at him.

“What about?” Bofur glanced around the room as if he’d never seen it before.

“Batman.”

“Who’s Batman?” 

“You don’t know who Batman is?”

“No.” Bofur shrugged. “Tell me.”

“Ok. Come here.” He patted the space next to him on the bed. Bofur scrambled up and practically fell into Bifur’s lap to look at the pictures. “This is Batman. He’s a superhero, who fights crime and he’s got a sidekick named Robin.”

 

“Can you read it to me?”

“You can read.”

“Yeah, but not big words.” Bofur peered down at the page. “Why is he jumping off the roof?”

“Ok, let’s start at the beginning.”

After that, Bofur was always hanging around his door after school and Bofur got used to his younger brother listening patiently as he stumbled through the dialogue of his latest find. Slowly, Bofur became a stronger reader and Bifur didn’t have to read out loud anymore. Instead they’d sprawl out together on their bellies across the floor, trading issues back and forth or debating characters.

“I want to be Batman.” Bifur confided, on a rainy afternoon. “Because he doesn’t have any superpowers. He works really hard to be a great detective.”

“I’d be Spiderman.” Bofur had claimed the bed and hung with his head over the edge of the mattress. “Sticking to walls would be so cool.”

“Yeah, but then you’d have to be Peter Parker.” Bifur said sagely. “Don’t fall off again.”

“I won’t.” Catching himself on the edge of the mattress, he hauled himself back up. “What’s wrong with being Peter Parker?”

“Dunno. He’s kind of a dork.”

As fate would have it, Bofur was kind of a dork too. While Bifur set up game after game with his friends at recess, he’d see Bofur kicking around a patch of gravel or staring up at the sky by himself. And the thing was, Bifur still didn’t understand his crazy family, but they were his and he knew lonely when he saw it.

“What are you doing?” Bifur eventually asked, crossing the invisible line between younger and older kids.

“Looking at the clouds.” Bofur watched him warily. 

“Don’t be like that. Come on, play with us.” He hauled him off the bench and stuck him in front of the goal where his two left feet couldn’t trip him up too badly.

“Aw, c’mon Bif. Why do we gotta get stuck with your little brother?” George whined.

“You play with me, you play with him.” Bifur rolled his shoulders back, emphasizing the extra inch of height he already had on most of his friends. “Problem?”

There was no problem. Bofur sort of sucked at playing goalie at first, but he got better with practice. Bifur made him run drills when they got home from school sometimes and those helped too. Sometimes goals got by him because Bofur was too busy turning something over in his weird little brain. Still, it was better than him being on his own all the time. And for the first time Bifur had an occasional ally in the house.

“C’mon, Mama, please? It’s the World Cup! Everyone’s going to be watching.”

“I think everyone is a bit of an exaggeration.” She held the remote in one hand. “You know that Bombur and I have been looking forward to this documentary.”

“Oh!” Bofur rushed in. “Quick! Change the channel. It’s the Brazil game on next.”

“You watch football?” Bombur knit his eyebrows together.

“Yeah.” Bofur crossed his thin arms over his chest in a mockery of all things defiant. “And everyone is gonna watch this one.”

“Thanks.” Bifur murmured later over the roar of the crowd as another goal was scored.

“What for?” Bofur snorted. “We’re losing.”

Taking all of that into consideration, Bifur decided that it was his duty to tell Bofur the bad news. He’d just turned eleven a few weeks before and felt the weight of his impending adulthood. He waited until he heard Mama go to bed and Abba turn on the television before he snuck down the hallway and into Bofur’s room.

All of the bedclothes were tented up on the bed, a faint light shimmering through the fabric. Bifur lifted a corner, a burst of overheated air poured out. Bofur stared at him, frozen in surprise.

“It’s just me, Bo.” Bifur slid in beside him, leaving the corner upturned so they could both breath in the warm tented space.

“Does Mama know you’re still awake?”

“Does she know you are?” Bifur snorted. “What are you reading?”

“Superman. Lex Luthor has him beat.”

“Wouldn’t bet on that.” Bifur bit his lip. “Look, I have to tell you something, ok? But you have to keep it a secret until they tell you themselves.”

“Who?”

“Mama and Abba.” Bifur took the flashlight and clicked it off. Darkness settled around them, the air too close and hot. “They’re gonna get a divorce.”

“No, they aren’t.” Bofur blinked rapidly. “They said they weren’t when I asked them.”

“That was months and months ago.” Bifur sighed. “I heard them talking about it over the weekend. They thought I had the tv up too high to hear, but I got up to get a glass of milk.”

“I don’t...why?”

“Because they don’t love each other anymore. It happens, I guess.” Bifur picked up the comic book, closing it gently. “Abba said he’s going to move back to Haifa. We can spend summers with him and stuff, but we’re gonna stay here with Mama most of the time.”

“He’s leaving?” Bofur’s eyes looked damp and round, the way they had the day he’d twisted his ankle and hobbled all the way home from school rather than admit it hurt. “Just like that?”

“I don’t think he’s happy about it, but he never really fit in here and he says there’s a job waiting for him. So he can help Mama even if they aren’t together anymore.”

“I don’t want him to go.”

“I know.” Bifur put an arm around his shoulders and drew him in close. “I don’t want him to either, but he has to go. So don’t cry when he tells you, ok? Cause I think he’s really upset and it’ll hurt him if he has to watch you cry.”

“But he’s leaving. I want him to feel bad.”

“No, you don’t.” Bifur squeezed him tight. “Cry now, ok?”

“You’ll make fun of me.”

“Won’t. “ Bifur swallowed hard. “I’ll still be here and you know I’ll look out for you just like Abba would.”

“But you’re not him.” And then Bofur did cry, holding on to Bifur’s pajama top like a lifeline. Bifur didn’t tease him. He might have wiped away a few stray tears of his own.

When their parents did sit them down, solemn faces and trembling hands, only Bombur cried. Their mother pulled him into her lap and stroked his hair even though he was nearly too big for it. Abba kissed all three of them once on the forehead, gave Bofur a heavy box full of parts then took his suitcase and left. 

“You’re the man of the house now.” Mama told Bifur later that night. “I know you’ll be a good big brother.”

It might have been callous, but Bifur barely noticed his father’s absence. They hadn’t understood each other and Abba had been a kind man, but also a quiet and unassuming one. It wasn’t as if he was entirely gone anyway. They all got to fly out to see him a few times a year and spend weeks on a warm beach or learning the complications of Hebrew.

Bofur didn’t handle it nearly as well. Without their father’s anchoring presence and the onset of adolescence, he spent more and more time on his own. Sometimes the only person that could coax him outside at all was Bifur. They took long walks, Bifur dribbling a football and the quiet settling around them. It became a confessional time for them, whatever insults, hurts or hopes they had stored up during the week spilled out. 

“I kissed a girl.” Bifur told him at fifteen and Bofur an awkward thirteen. The asphalt spread out before them, steaming a little in the summer heat. “Her name is Melinda.”

“The one with the glasses and the mole on her forehead?” Bofur frowned. “She’s in my Young Scientist group after school.”

“I know. I met her when I was waiting around to walk home with you last week.”

“Was the kiss good?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to do it again?”

“Yeah. I think I’m going to ask her if she wants to go to the movies with me.” Bifur grinned. “She liked Terminator, so I bet she’d go see the second one.”

“Probably.” Bofur swept his hair off his face. “She’s really nice.”

“I know.” Bifur rolled the ball a little ahead of them, jogging to catch up with it. “What about you? Any girls?”

“No.” He snorted. “None of them even look at me.”

“Eh, give in a few years. Might help if you learned to talk to people.”

“I know how to talk to people. I’m talking to you right now.”

“But I’m not a girl.”

“I’d noticed.”

“Ok, ok, no need to be a dick about it.”

“I’m not being a dick. Asshole.”

“Big words!” Bifur laughed, coming back around to swat him on the shoulder. 

The walks trickled off after that as first Melinda, then Bethany and then Georgia became a part of Bifur’s life. The girls were all kind, a little plump and snub nosed. Often they would wait for him in the kitchen after school, talking to Bofur as Bifur showered off the day’s practice.

“You’re brother is sort of cute.” Georgia told him as they walked to get ice cream.

“Guess so.” He shrugged. “He’s a good kid.”

“I gave him a little peck on the lips. Think it nearly killed him.”

“You did what?” When he turned to face her, she looked a little scared. He’d never scared a girl before. A slush of shame and anger gathered in his stomach.

“It was just a little kiss! He just looked sort forlorn and you know with all those pimples, no one else is going to do it for a long time.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know, Bif. He’s a scrawny dork.”

“And we’re done here.” He left her gawking after him on the sidewalk as he stormed back to the house.

Bofur was still sitting at the kitchen table, pencil poised over a math problem, but it hadn’t moved an inch since they’d left. The pencil shook a little. 

“You ok?” Bifur sat down next to him.

“Yes! I mean...no. I mean....I didn’t...she kissed me! I was just sitting there.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m not mad.” As soon as Bifur said it, it was true. Whatever Georgia had thought, Bofur hadn’t wanted a kiss. Not from her at least. Maybe not from any girl at all. The thought made him a little uncomfortable, but it had to be way worse for Bofur.

“Oh. You aren’t?” Bofur dropped his arms. “Um. That’s good. Because it wasn’t my fault.”

“I broke up with her.”

“It was just a little kiss! And it was sort of out of pity.”

“That’s why I dumped her.” Bifur shrugged. “You don’t need pity. If you wanted a girlfriend, you’d have one.”

“No, I-”

“It’s ok with me, is all I’m saying.”

“What’s ok?”

 

“Anything.” Bifur stood up, his chair scraping against the floor. “You’ll have to figure the rest out yourself.”

It took two more years for Bofur to come out, but he told Bifur first and the clap on the shoulder was the beginning and the end of that conversation. 

Bifur went through his own coming of age more abruptly. One morning, he prepared to go to school and looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn’t bad looking with long dark hair and intense eyes. His nose was a little bulbous and his lips thin. Over the years, he’d built lean muscle nearly everywhere and there was power in his broad shoulders. Football had found him to be adequate, but hardly star power. He wasn’t an artist or a chef or a singer or an inventor.

“I’m a warrior.” He told the mirror and the words fit just like that. 

“You ok?” Bofur asked as they walked home. He’d also grown up, nearly seventeen with the beginnings of a moustache sprouted over his lip. It only looked a little ridiculous.

“Just thinking.” He kicked at a pebble. “I think I want to go back to Israel. Maybe stay awhile. Join up.”

“You mean with the army?”

“Guess so.” He frowned. “I think I’d be good at it.”

“Yeah.” Bofur choked. “You would be.”

“When Abba calls on Saturday, I’m going to tell him.”

Late on Friday night, Bofur banged on Bifur’s door in the middle of the night.

“Are you crazy?” He demanded, yanking open the door. “I was asleep.”

“No, you weren’t.” Bofur pushed him aside and shut the door. “I want to come with you.”

 

“What? No. Bo, you can’t.”

“Why not? Israel is as much my homeland as it is yours, why can’t I want to serve?”

“Because!” Bifur spluttered. “You can’t just join the army because you still want to follow me around like a kid! It’s war, not a football game.”

“I don’t!” Bofur flushed with anger. “I’m not a child. I want to serve for the same reasons you do.”

 

“You’re not built for it. They aren’t looking for....for...”

“For what?” Bofur growled.

“Scrawny dorks!”

The punch caught Bifur off guard. He hadn’t thought Bofur even knew how to hit someone. It landed square on his jaw though and sent him staggering back into the wall. Reacting on instinct, Bifur leaped forward and tackled Bofur to the ground. They wrestled across the floor raising holy hell.

“Quit it!” Bombur banged on the wall. “Some of us are trying to sleep, you heathens!”

“Shut up!” Bofur and Bifur yelled back at the same time.

“I swear to God, none of you are old enough to stop me from taking you over my knee!” Their mother bellowed from the bowels of the house.

Silence reigned. Bifur rolled of his brother and took in several panting breaths.

“I want to do this.” Bofur told him.

“Promise me that you won’t die.” Bifur stared up at the ceiling, defeated and suddenly exhausted. “Or get injured or anything horrible.”

“I promise.” Bofur groaned. “I think you cracked my rib.”

“Infant.”

“Asshole.”

Bifur mostly worried that Bofur wouldn’t fit in and it would be primary school all over again. It turned out though that army had a use for scrawny dorks with mechanical leanings, excellent aim and a lot of patience. Bifur was just a grunt, but Bofur was sniper trained within months of their arrival. It was disconcerting to watch him practice, all that dreamy stillness put to a deadly use.

“Look!” Bofur would laugh, showing Bifur the target like they were bragging kids again. “Perfect score!”

And Bifur would grin and give him a thumbs up and pray that his little brother never had to use that aim on anything, but paper. As usual, his prayers were ignored. Bofur went on missions and came back withdrawn. He’d sit with Bifur in the mess with shaking hands and shifting eyes.

“That’s the life.” The others would tell him and Bifur nodded and plotted.

Before he could put any of his admittedly shoddy plans into action, he was called out for guard duty at a construction site. It was a boring few days standing in partial shade and drinking water until his piss ran clear. Some nights he’d look to the stars and found he’d forgotten all of their names. He decided to ask Bofur when he got back and take the ribbing. It was better to know.

“Huh.” A worker said, ten seconds before everything went to hell. “Did you hear that?”

Then the world was fire and seared meat and pain. His vision went red then black and then he knew nothing at all. 

He woke in snatches to the smell of antiseptic and sick or the blur of too bright lights. Everything hurt and nothing made sense. It was a struggle to keep his eyes open even for those precious seconds, before the darkness took him back. Sometimes he heard his mother singing.

At last though, he woke for good and they drew a long tube out of his throat. Mama and Abba were there, holding his hands as if he might float away. Their faces were pinched with worry. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen them in the same room. Years and years ago.

“Water?” He asked. They stared at him confusion. “Thirsty.”

“Aphasic.” Decreed the doctor, standing in a white blur behind them. “Can you understand me, Bifur? Blink twice for yes.”

Laboriously, Bifur blinked twice.

“Oh!” Mama grabbed at Bifur’s hand. “We love you, baby. Are you ok? You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”

“Please, m’am.” The doctor held up his hand. “It’s possible your son will have trouble communicating for some time.”

“What does that mean?” Bifur asked and again, they all stared helplessly at him.

“Please understand,” the doctor licked his lips nervously, “while you may sound understandable to yourself, your speech will sound garbled to those around you. With time and effort, you may be able to regain some control.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.” His head ached. The door to the suite opened and closed quietly. “Can I please have some water? I’m thirsty.”

“Isn’t he allowed to have some water?” Bofur stepped into the line of sight. 

“Let’s start with ice chips.” The doctor gestured at a styrofoam cup.

Bofur put one chip on the tip of Bifur’s tongue.

“Hey, bro. Nice to see you awake.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You can understand him?” Mama stared at Bofur.

“Well, yeah. I mean it’s kind of slurred, but he took a piece of shrapnel to his brain, I think we can excuse him.”

Bifur could have hugged him. Instead he slipped into darkness. Each time after that when he woke, Bofur was there. Sometimes Bombur was too. They were often talking, more than Bifur had ever seen them talk before.

“Bored.” Bifur complained more than once. Eventually Bofur came back with comics and from there after, whenever he was awake either Bofur or Bombur read to him. 

His world was irrevocably changed. The army thanked him for his service. After a lot of discussion where his opinion was seldom taken, it was decided that he’d return home to Ireland with his mother and Bombur.

“I’ve got another eighteen months here.” Bofur hugged him hard. “But I’ll be back the first day I can.” 

“It’s fine.” Bifur thumped him hard on the back. “I’m not alone.” 

When Bifur arrived home and set his duffle bag on the end of his childhood bed. His room was just as he left it. He sat gingerly down next to his bag and buried his face in his hands. He’d left home a warrior and returned broken. Useless.

“Don’t get comfortable.” Bombur leaned into the doorway. “There’s a rabbit menacing the vegetable patch. There’s chicken wire in the back. Mama can’t bend that well anymore and I can’t get behind to reach.”

“I’ve got it.” He got back up, narrowing his eyes. “This isn’t pity work, is it?”

“That’s right. Hard work. Off you go then.” 

Bifur was never entirely sure if Bombur actually misunderstood him or just deliberately mistook him when it was convenient. Either way, he seemed to have a list of chores a yard long that only Bifur could manage. Each night, he brewed tea and produced some cake or scone. They’d sit together after their mother went to sleep.

“I’d love to open a bakery.” Bombur told him, between bites of raspberry tart. “I’ve been taking formal classes when I can. I think I’d be good at it.”

He could easily imagine Bombur in chef’s whites and the smell of sugar hanging about him. 

Bifur nodded rather than risk words. More and more, he learned the language of his body and expressed himself without the troublesome burden of speech. His therapist would force him through speaking every week, but there was little improvement. It seemed easier to lapse into a silence of choice, learning to communicate in other ways. He’d always been a man of few words anyway.

No one on the construction job he eventually found cared a lick if he kept quiet as long as he responded to orders and did his work quickly. It was a lot like being in the army that way. 

“Help me with these cookies.” Bombur demanded when he came home sweating and filthy. “After you shower.”

The cookies didn’t seem particularly hard. Just measures of the usual stuff, but Bombur stressed over them anyway. Bifur cleaned around him, wiping up frantic spills of flour and stray egg white. When they were finally in the oven, he curved his index finger and raised an eyebrow.

“They’re Bofur’s favorites.” Bombur rubbed a hand over his forehead. “He’s coming home tomorrow. Mama thought it would over excite you if you knew.”

The rude sound that came from Bifur’s mouth required no interpretation.

“I told her you’d say that, but there was no arguing with her.”

Maybe Mama had been a little right. Bifur couldn’t sleep that night though he couldn’t say why. It wasn’t as if anything would change. Bofur would stay with them awhile then get on with his life. Yet, he felt a keen anticipation for his brother’s return.

The arrival came early, just as they were sitting down to breakfast. Bofur knocked and Mama flew from her chair and swung the door open wide to embrace her child. She kissed Bofur’s face a dozen times and hugged him hard before releasing him. Bombur stood awkwardly and offered his hand. A smile melted over his face when Bofur ignored the proffered handshake and gave him a hard hug. 

“It’s good to see you.” Bofur held Bombur out at arm’s length looking him over. “My baby brother, all grown up. Look at you.”

“I’ve been grown up for some time.” Bombur sniffed, but he was clearly pleased.

Bifur stood up slowly and nearly lost his footing to the hard hug Bofur enclosed him in. His scrawny little brother was a strong lion now with arms like banded steel. Bifur hugged him back with equal strength, letting go very unwillingly in the end.

“Let me set another place!” Mama said through her tears.

They shared many meals together as a family after that, even more than they had as children. Bofur wasn’t eager to go back out into the world, preferring the intimate company of his brothers. Bombur flourished under the sudden attention from both older siblings. It was a pleasure to watch Bofur meet the man that Bifur had spent the last year and a half getting to know. Once Bofur got over his initial shock, the two of them proved to have an easy comedic rhythm. Bifur spent more time laughing then he had in years.

Time would rob them of the best periods. It always did. Thorin crash landed into their lives and Bofur followed after him, hypnotized. Bifur carried boxes of comics from a boy’s room into a man’s apartment and let go.

“I’ll call on Tuesdays, ok? And we’ll go for a pint on the weekends.” Bofur told him as they set pewter dragons amid legal documents.

“I know.” Bifur told him and Bofur smiled.

“The thing is,” Bombur handed them another box, “I’ve got a job offer. But its a bit far away.”

 

“How far?” Bofur wiped dust off the next shelf.

“America. It’s a prestigious bakery and they’d take me on. Teach me whatever I’ve got left to learn. One of my old instructors is a part owner.”

“Mama will be upset, but I think you should go for it.”

Bifur had never been to America. He imagined a life rattling in the big house with only his mother for company.

“I’ll go with you.” He offered and Bombur understood that perfectly.

Bofur took to them to the airport and waved them off with a smile pasted under his growing moustache. They mastered email instead of weekly phone calls, so Bifur express himself with less frustration. Bifur wrote him about how much he loved their college town and its strange American ways. Bofur told him about domestic life, their mother’s health and two young boys with infinite capacity for mischief.

_What I admire is how they look out for each other._ Bofur wrote _It reminds me a little of those football games. Do you remember how you used to let me play?_

Bifur remembered. Even as he found odd jobs around town and eventually came to work in the bakery itself, keeping inventory and tracking deliveries, he had plenty of time to think. He thought about his strange family, their foreign interests and strange outlooks on life. He thought about Bombur’s boundless enthusiasm and Bofur’s bravery. He thought about Mama’s loving voice and Abba’s guiding hand. 

He had never understood his family. He didn’t understand how Bofur could walk away from the love of his life, tearing his heart from his body. He didn’t understand how Bombur could make a dusty apartment a home with hot crossed buns and roasted chicken. He didn’t understand how both of them became such relentless entrepreneurs, bounding across oceans to sell their wares as if it were no more than a toddle across the street. 

They lived apart and together at helter skelter intervals, crashing into each others lives and distangangling again, leaving behind one shoe, a pack of gum and a dented pot. 

Bifur didn’t understand, but he was endlessly proud of them. 

That’s what he typed when Bofur wrote him about a man named Bilbo and the return of Fili and Kili into his life. 

_I remember that you wanted to be Spiderman._

He paused at his laptop, glancing out the open window onto the Mediterranean Sea. Their parents were gone, their father buried not too far from here. Bombur’s bakery would be closing for the day in an hour or two, but he wouldn’t be home for a while longer. There was a woman, Bifur suspected. Perhaps the new waitress with two long braids and a snub nose like their mother. Maybe someone worth introducing, maybe not. 

A picture on printer paper shuddered in the breeze. The three of them a year ago, gathered on the crumbling sidewalk in front of Bofur’s shop. They looked nothing alike anymore. Bifur’s hair had gone grey in hanks, the ugly scar bisecting his forehead and breaking the line of the family nose. Bofur had stayed lean, something drawn and contemplative lingering under his cheery smile just as it always had on their father. Bombur, hair still as copper bright as their mother’s, swollen up like at tick and proud of it, generous hands resting on his belly. 

There’d be other pictures soon. A little boy sitting in a small man’s lap with matching curls. Two teenagers with their hands knotted together behind their backs. Bofur’s arm looped around Bilbo’s shoulders. Bombur with the snub nosed waitress. And Bifur in the background. Watching. Standing guard. 

_I always thought you were crazy._ He resumed. _Spiderman was the luckless hero. Always hated in costume and forgettable out of it. But he loved, very deeply. Maybe that makes him better than Batman. Maybe it makes you not so crazy._

_But Batman would still win in a fight._

_With love,  
Your Big Brother _


	9. And so it goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili and Kili celebrate their 25th anniversary driving down the Pacific coast. Bofur and Bilbo share a cup of tea on the other side of the country.

The cliff face rose above them and the waves crashed below them. The low slung car, more expensive than anything they’d ever buy on their own, growled against the pavement. They had the top down, the wind obliterating conversation and playing merry havoc with their hair. Kili drove with one hand on the wheel and his other arm propped on the door, every inch relaxed into the seat. 

Fili put his feet on the dashboard and watched the scenery roll out before them. He was wearing a cheap pair of sunglasses that they’d picked up at a ratty convenience store miles back. They reflected back the ocean and the cloudless sky in their mirrored lenses. 

“Lunch!” Fili said, waving at the restaurant perched on the edge of the cliff. They stumbled out of the car, windblown and dizzy with the heights. Kili wrapped an arm around Fili’s shoulders, drew him close to hide a kiss in the curve of his retreating hairline. They both ordered hamburgers and ate them at a long picnic table. 

“We should get to the bed and breakfast before sunset.” Fili unfolded the map from his pocket, tracing a line down the coast. 

“Do you want to drive?” Kili stole one of Fili’s neglected fries, licking the salt from his fingers. 

“No. It’s nice, just watching. You’ve got ketchup on your chin, thief.” He reached forward and wiped it away with his thumb. Kili grabbed Fili’s wrist and licking the red droplet off the the tip. 

“Tastes better when it was yours first.” Kili grinned. 

Fili curved his captured hand to cup the strong line of Kili’s jaw. He was gorgeous in the mellow sunlight. Long streaks of grey shot through his dark ponytail and laugh-lines crackled at the corner of his eyes. 

“How are you still so goddamn beautiful?” Fili asked, a little stunned by it all. “It’s ridiculous.” 

“Good genes.” Kili winked playfully. Fili leaned in and kissed him, tasted the salt of the fries and the tang of the ocean air. 

When they got back in the car, Kili captured one of Fili’s hands and tangled it up with his own. The sun set like it was showing off, a thousand flushed colors. The little town that held their bed and breakfast appeared over the horizon in the last flash of orange before the navy blue of night stole in. 

“Got the reservation right here.” A rosy cheeked teenager checked them off the register and gave them a keychain with a wooden apple hanging off the end. “You’re the third on the left.” 

The apple theme continued through the room, too floral and overdone for their taste, but easy enough to ignore when they discovered the huge bathtub. 

“I bet we can both fit in here!” Kili crowed, turning on the hot water and adding the bubble bath. “It’s apple scented.” 

“Figures.” Fili snorted as he took off his shirt. 

“I can’t remember the last time we took a bath together.” Kili mused as the room filled with steam. 

Fili could. They’d been small, warring with plastic boats. He didn’t bring those memories up much anymore. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten who they were, as if he ever could, but he tried to let it go. All these years later, their parents too old now to expect anything more, the extended family mostly drifted away...it didn’t seem to matter. 

“A while ago.” He said instead. “You didn’t make it too hot, did you?” 

“Might’ve.” Kili flicked the cold tap around. “What are we doing tomorrow, oh master of schedule?” 

“There’s Hearst’s Castle. San Simeon, I think. We can stop there and get a tour. It’s about four hours from there to L.A.” He leaned against the sink. “We’ve got one night at a hotel there, but we can stay longer if you want.” 

“Don’t really care.” Kili stuck his foot in testing. “I’m not in a rush.” 

“I’d like to spend more time in San Francisco then L.A.. Guess we’ll take it as it comes.” 

“Must be driving you crazy.” Kili laughed, and slid under the water. The tub was still filling up, leaving his softly rounded belly an island. 

“It’s not bothering me.” He said truthfully, shedding the last of his clothing. “I took my watch off when we landed.” 

“I noticed.” 

The water was a little too hot, but it was good anyway. Fili dropped his head onto Kili’s shoulder and let his eyes slide shut. Kili tugged him closer, wrapping arms around his chest and rubbing their cheeks together. They marinated there in the heat and the luxury of time. Eventually they stumbled, pink skinned and tender, into the cupcake of a bed. They made love, trading heady kisses back and forth until the room smelled more like them than any apple. 

While they dozed, across the country a little shop opened. It’s sign flipped over and the cash registered hummed to life. Bofur leaned on the counter, watching the soft summer rain come down. He folded origami, creasing the lines into fragile paper with fingers still nimble if a little slower. 

He watched when the window until the curly haired professor walked by, two cups of tea in hand. The chime above the door rang out. 

“Good morning, my dear.” Bilbo set one cup before him. “You could’ve woken me before you left.” 

“You looked too peaceful to bother.” Bofur leaned across the counter to kiss him. 

“Mm. I might have missed my first class if Frodo didn’t call. That’s peace for you.” Bilbo smiled anyway. 

“Good news then, I take it?” 

“He’s gotten tenure at BCC. I know it isn’t the position he dreamed of, but I’m pleased anyway. Something permanent for him. He’s going to finish out his lease and then look into buying a condo or a small house.” 

“That’s excellent news. We’ll have to visit soon, take him out to celebrate.” Bofur took a sip of his tea, savoring the heat. 

“We should take Sam with us.” 

“Leave him be.” Bofur waved off the idea. “He’ll go in his own time. They’re grown ups now, you know. Can’t be arranging their lives for them.” 

“I don’t see why not.” Bilbo sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I really do hate when you get all sensible.” 

“I’d apologize, but I’m not sorry.” Bofur laughed at Bilbo’s consternation until he settled enough to kiss it away. 

"Mm. Don't stop." Bilbo ordered when Bofur drew away. 

“You’ll be late for class.” 

“Who’s fault is that?” 

“Most likely mine.” Bofur covered Bilbo’s hand with his own. “I’ll make dinner as restitution, how about that?” 

“Acceptable.” Bilbo turned his palm upward, linking their fingers together. His hair was white and his skin soft, but his lips still turned berry red with too much attention. 

Outside a student went by on a bicycle, racing unsteadily through the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who's come along the journey. I'll still answer prompts and asks about the boys over on my Tumblr, but otherwise I lay down my proverbial pen for this verse for now. I think this was the best place I could leave them.


End file.
